


Mage Sundered

by redjenny113



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Action, Adventure, Angst, Custom Trevelyan, Development, Dragons, Drama, Drama & Romance, Dysfunctional Family, Eventual Romance, Flashbacks, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Hope, Journey, Love, Mages, Mages and Templars, Magic, Multi, Ostwick, Ostwick Circle, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Psychological Trauma, Red Templars, Romance, Siblings, Tags May Change, Templars, Templars (Dragon Age), Venatori, Who Knows?, and more will be added, can titles change?, even the title may change, i have no idea what i am doing, tags will change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-08-20 10:12:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 90,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8245391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redjenny113/pseuds/redjenny113
Summary: Bastard child to Bann Trevelyan, Pandora expected her life to end with her going to the Chantry against her will. Instead her magical ability awakens, embarrassing her stepmother Lady Trevelyan and leading her to begin a life she never expected. Outcast as both a bastard noble and a mage, her life takes a larger twist when she emerges from the Temple of Sacred Ashes, her left hand now glowing green.





	1. Chapter 1

His breath swirled in the cold mountain air before him, as he thrust his shield into the face of a demon, which had emerged lazily from the green rift. Another puff of breath followed, as he swung his sword into the side of the thing, blood spurting forth, soaking his already stained gauntlet. The thing died with a shriek and he tugged out his sword and in one swift move arched the blade to his right, addressing another demon which had appeared. 

The onslaught seemed almost endless; for one misery filled hour Cullen Rutherford and his soldiers had battled the constant barrage of demons, falling from the rift- but they fell and attacked so mockingly, as if taunting them closer to exhaustion and closer to death, knowing there was only so much mortals could take. 

The wave seemed to have ended and he lent against the remnants of the wall to catch his breath, wiping his forehead with his upper arm. They needed reinforcements soon.

“Heal up and rest. There seems to be a temporary respite, ensure to utilise it.” Cullen looked around at the soldiers. The archers slackened their arrows and the warriors bent over, trying to regain any energy they had left, which was not operating on adrenaline.

He winced as his headache returned in full force, reminding him of his addiction and the fact he was not fuelling it. He had stopped taking Lyrium only a few days before, wishing to see the Conclave with a clear mind, free of his last ties to the Templars. But with all that had happened within the last 24 hours, he wished he would have held on longer.

“Sir.” He turned his head to one of the soldiers near him. “We have lost two more in that last wave, Lancel and Thierre are dead.”

Cullen nodded in understanding. “Casualties?”

The man sighed and ran his fingers through his light brown hair, matted in blood. “Most are tending to wounds with potions, but a handful are on their last legs despite the healing remedies. A few of our archers seem to be letting some arrows stray, bloody idiots barely know how to hold a bow.”

He motioned to a few dints in his own armour.

“The downside to using recruits who are not yet battle ready…” Cullen cursed under his breath, but it could not be avoided. “How are you holding Trevelyan?”

He stretched his neck. 

“I am tired, but I can keep fighting. We must hold this position and I will endeavour to see it held; anyway much rather actual fighting than the desk work.” He winked at Cullen. “You promised me adventure and you delivered.”

Cullen managed a slight smile. He had scouted the young warrior to the Inquisition shortly before he had set sail from Kirkwall with Cassandra and Varric, his second time on a ship sailing to a new beginning. Eduard had served under him in Kirkwall; he was a committed warrior and to the cause of the Templar. He had been transferred to Kirkwall after his training, albeit he was vocal at the time that he would have preferred Ostwick. Eduard did not agree with the way Knight Commander Meredith oversaw the Circle: he had joined to protect mages, not to punish them. When Cassandra had offered Cullen the chance to redeem himself in the Inquisition, he had approached the noble warrior, as he needed someone he trusted as a Second in Command. He had thought Eduard would turn him down, as there was still much to be done as the mages at Ostwick had rebelled and dispersed. He joined Cullen with very little questions asked, determined to help end the chaos. 

Suddenly the rift seemed to come alive again, the green glow intensifying and illuminating the soldiers in that light which spelled a new wave, meaning more attack and closer to death. Cullen stood and pushed the side effects of his Lyrium withdrawal from him.

“To arms! Hold this area! Archers train your arrows with care!” He bellowed.

Eduard moved from him to the left circling the rift with caution, readying himself, yelling the order that Cullen had given to those behind him, who were slightly out of ear shot. Cullen inhaled and exhaled. His breath curling in a white cloud before him as demons emerged. This time, there seemed to be more. He bellowed and ran to strike the first and he sensed to his left Eduard doing the same with his two handed weapon.

The first one fell, and he looked around and realised that this wave was more intense, more testing. There were more demons and they seemed stronger. He cursed, not wanting to give in to the fact that they would soon be doomed if this rift could not be sealed.

“Hold this position. We cannot let this spread further down the pass.” He yelled to the soldiers around him. “Archers use your arrows as support and ensure the warriors are defended! Warriors keep the demons down here away from the pass!”

Nods assured him his orders were accepted and Eduard relayed it to the archers behind him, pointing at one man whose arrows had flown furthest from target. As he engaged with another pack, he sensed four figures appear on the verge. He sighed in relief as he slew another demon, it screamed as it fell. Finally back up. Finally hope.

Cassandra charged ahead with her mighty cry, bowling down a demon before it had chance to provide the finishing blow to one of his warrior recruits. The apostate mage frowned casting barriers around those within his range, no doubt Cullen thought, saving a few of the lesser battle ready recruits lives. Varrics arrows with their precision were a welcome sight, as a demon before him fell as an arrow pierced its eye and several more its body.

The fourth figure Cullen assumed to be the prisoner. His men had pulled her from the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, and they had saved her from the few villagers who had tried to kill her. Cullen himself had not seen the prisoner only read the reports and heard the tales when he was not fighting; which was seldom, due to the lack of battle ready recruits. They knew so little about her, other than she was a mage- but was she dangerous and could she be trusted? 

The prisoner ran along the smaller wall, jumping over destroyed sections with ease and grace, heading for the rift but also the group of demons emerging near Eduard. Her black mages robes billowed behind her and her head and face were obscured by the hood, up to keep the cold from her face. She was focused on the group of demons, hand going behind her to the staff and her left hand glowing green.

Cullen was worried for Eduard, despite his skill, all he had as back up were the archers and they had already grazed him enough times for his liking, but he was unable to support as a new group emerged taking his focus of attack. Cullen swirled his sword into a demon and shoved another away from him with his shield, roaring out as he fought.

The prisoner had reached Eduard, and a surge of magic filled the air as a blast of lighting crackled pushing one demon further from the warrior, rendering it paralysed. 

Eduard looked up, his white skin ablaze with sweat, blood and the green light, his sword keeping the demons from him. He looked up, as the prisoner jumped over his head, twirling with grace in the air, staff in her right hand ready to use. Her mark crackled green as she twirled so he could see her front. The wind picked up and her hood fell down. He stared up at her and he gasped as he saw her: light brown skin and big eyes which seemed to glow slightly purple. She was beautiful.

“Pan?”

Her eyes widened in recognition, and for a moment they locked eyes. Then suddenly a demon grabbed her foot, appearing from no where to pull her from the air and flinging her across the battlefield.

Eduard screamed and swung down his sword as an arrow pierced his side. He sank to his knees, clutching at his side as blood dribbled out and grimacing, fingering at his sword, determined but unable to stand and fight, to run to her.

Cullen saw the commotion from the corner of his eye and roared to the archers to maintain their precision. Eduard was on his knees, blood dripping from him, desperately swinging at the demons to little avail and the prisoner skidded across the stone floor a demon pinning her body down. She grimaced. The friction obviously hurting her and she was trying her best to keep the claws from her face. Her eyes sparkled in mild panic; as the demon relentlessly swung at her face.

“Keep her alive!” Cassandra barked, panic in her eyes. Varric and Solas nodded, but were swamped with demons near them to assist. Cassandra was dealing with two major shades and Cullen was faced with another group of demons, emerging near him.

Her staff had been thrown beyond her reach.

“She is the only one who can close the rift!” Cassandra looked panicked to Cullen. He nodded. 

Cullen threw off the brunt of the group attack, stunning a few demons, to focus on one and then with the intent to charge over to the prisoner when suddenly lightning once more crackled in the air and shot through her body and legs. 

She pulled her legs up to her torso and thrusted up, kicking the thrashing demon from her. Lightning surged through her, sparkling around her body and rendered the demon into a cloud of smoke with a shriek, as it flew upwards. With a swift move, she pushed her hands behind her head, using the force to jump up to her feet. She looked for the staff, but it was too far and she looked ahead. She had little time to react. Two demons, one ambling towards her, the other bearing down on the wounded solider. The wind caught the tail of her black robes, which had torn from her scrapping across the ground. She narrowed her eyes and lowered herself slightly, arms out to her sides as if in balance.

Cullen saw the demon advance on Eduard too, he was succumbing to the wound, but she reacted first. He watched as she ran forwards into the demon heading to her, suddenly jumping right, using the wall as a support, running up it and pushing off jumping over the demon. She placed her hands on the demons head to vault over it. A shock of electricity ran through her hands, stunning the demon as she pushed off, the force propelling her up and forward. She flew through the air landing on the back of the attacking demon, serving to throw it off the attack, making it stumble around in confusion. Eduard sank down further, overcome by the wound. An arrow whizzed from somewhere and hit the demon she had used as a vault, finally ending it.

The demon stumbled around, with the mage on its back heading towards Cullen and the group of demons he was engaging with. Her arms shone with red and she placed her hands over the head of the demon, scrunching her face in concentration. A shot of flame ran through the head of the demon and it seemed to pulsate and heat up. She looked up at Cullen and yelled.

“Move!”

She jumped from its back, landing with grace on the ground and kicked it into the group of demons, as Cullen pulled his sword from the body of a slain demon. The demon stumbled into the group and pulsated with fire one last time and exploded with force to damage those around. Cullen saw the end to the rest.

And suddenly it was all over. They were no longer bathed in green.

He sighed, sheathing his weapons and he noticed for the first time it was snowing. Moans around him confirmed the injured soldiers and his headache came back once more. Cassandra was bathed in blood as she sheathed her sword and he made his way towards her.

Varric stood behind Cassandra, his cross bow strapped to his back and Solas had retrieved the prisoners staff. She was knelt over Eduard, checking his wounds, concern etched on her face as she stroked his cheek.

“Here.” Solas extended the staff and she looked up, taking it. “Although, I do not think you need it.”

‘Thank you.”

“He will live. Come.” Solas inclined his head towards the others and she nodded, casting one last look on the unconscious solider.

They walked in behind Cassandra, who had moved towards Cullen.

“Lady Cassandra, you managed to close to rift, well done.” 

“Do no congratulate me Commander. This is the prisoners doing.”

“Is it?”

He looked at her properly. She had light brown skin which looked so smooth and clear, but her most striking feature were her eyes. They were orb like and seemed to glow slightly, yet what made his heart beat a little faster was there colour- violet. A scar ran under her right eye, it looked like it had only recently healed. Her black hair hung loose over her face, the wind blowing it about and she tucked a strand behind her ear. She blinked, looking at the Commander looking at her. Cullen thought she looked a little afraid and confused; even so those eyes sparkled with intelligence and quick thinking. But also, oddly, hope.

He took in her purple eyes, dumb struck for a moment as they shone in the light through the white snow clouds. They were almost magical. He narrowed his eyes, weary and tired.

“I hope they are right about you, we have lost a lot of men.”

“I cannot promise anything, but I will try my best.” Her voice was soft and gentle, and despite that it resounded clear; a voice that was quiet but in being so commanded attention. Her purple eyes seemed to glimmer brighter for a moment before fading again. There was something unnatural about those eyes, which were so captivating. Cullen shook himself.

“That is all we can ask.” Cullen frowned a little. “Maker watch over you for all our sakes.”   
He turned and commanded his troops back down the mountain. He went over to Eduard and pulled him up. The man groaned, coming back around and winced at the pain in his side. Cullen dragged him from the ruins. He struggled with him as Eduard tried to turn around to catch a glimpse of the group moving towards to rift in the Temple.

“The prisoner she-?”

“She closed the rift. It seems Solas was correct in his observations about the mark on her hand.”

“She closed the rift?”

Cullen looked down at the injured man. “Yes.”

“But she-“

Eduard shook his head and then tried to push away from Cullen, falling back onto the floor.

“Needs my help.”

“Trevelyan do not be foolish. We must return to the base and see to these injuries. We held the area and it is secure.”

“Commander…you don’t understand. She’s my-”

Cullen frowned as Eduard seemed to loose some energy and he sighed hoisting him back up again. If he did not get him down fast enough he might succumb to blood loss and he did not have enough potions to maintain him. He refused to let his Second in Command die. Not today and not on his watch.


	2. Chapter 2

“So who is she?” 

Cassandra shook her head unsure.

“I am not sure Commander. Although, I hesitate to align her close to the rebel mages.”

Cullen looked to Leliana, who lent against the door. It had been 2 days since the prisoner had closed the rifts and she lay in a fever of exhaustion, in the only cabin they could spare.

“My agents have not retrieved much; other than she must have belonged to a circle and the kind of magic we have seen her use in battle suggests she was no ordinary mage or apprentice. She is from the Free Marches, Varric confirmed, leaving a few options.” She sighed. “We are unsure why she was at the Conclave and with the rebels. Was she sent as representation? Did she have sympathies? I believe she may have been from the Ostwick Circle but I need more details.”

The Circle at Ostwick had been annulled a year before; everyone knew it had been triggered by the assassination of a Senior Enchanter, by a disgruntled student who turned to blood magic. Cullen shivered a little and his hand crushed the hilt of his sword. He had seen an annulment in Kirkwall. When he was in Ferelden he had demanded one, yet thankfully the Knight Commander ignored his young impulses. Now, he would certainly never entertain the idea. Luckily the Champion of Kirkwall was there to assist the innocent mages, which there were many in Kirkwall. He blinked slowly and frowned as the Lyrium withdrawal assisted the flashbacks. To the blood the screams. He blinked. He had to focus. 

Suddenly a messenger came in. 

“Commander.”

“Yes?” Cullen snapped himself back from the dark place and unclenched his fist.

“I was instructed to tell you when Eduard Trevelyan was awake. He is now.”

Cullen nodded. “Thank you.”

Cassandra crossed her arms. “You think he knows something?”

Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a little sickly from the withdrawal but he was capable.

“He certainly acted that way- if it was the severity of his wounds, then he can tell us himself. Let us go.”

They walked form the Chantry and through the camp, soldiers rested, and ate, healers ran around franticly and a few of the recruits and villagers loitered outside the house where the prisoner lay. Adan was at work within, observing and making notes. This time, no one tried to assassinate her. Two villagers had tried to sneak in and kill her when she had fallen from the rift in the Temple; they had thought her guilty of the blast, but now instead of murmurs of her guilt people spoke of her bravery and beauty.

They reached the medical tent and Cullen pulled it open.

“Commander.” 

Eduard sat on a cot, his torso bare, bandages covering his sides and head. The tent smelt of blood.

“How do you feel?”

Eduard laughed, but then clutched his side with his free arm. “Wretched.”

His eyes snapped to Cassandra and he smiled. “Lady Seeker, you look stunning today as always.”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise and turned her head away. This had not been the first time Eduard had tried out his charm on her. She thought he had taught him a lesson when she had kicked him hard in the shins.

“Commander Rutherford believes you know something about the Herald which might help us identify her.” Leliana asked from the side. Leliana folded her arms and frowned intently at the man.

“Herald?” He frowned.

“The prisoner.” Cullen added, realising that he would not have heard the rumours about her.

His eyes widened. 

“Is she alive? She closed the rifts?”

“She is alive. But we must discover if she is a threat to us.” Leliana interjected. “She can close rifts, but we know little about her. You are one of our few leads.”

Eduard sank into his cot and shut his eyes.

“Her name is Pandora Trevelyan. Daughter of Bann Trevelyan and she is my sister.” Eduard looked at them intently. “And she is no threat.”

Leliana turned on her heel and whispered to someone outside the tent and she re-entered, folding her arms once more.

“Andrastes tits… she closed it? Pandora?”

“Josie shall be delighted to have another member of House Trevelyan.” Cassandra noted.

Eduard shook his head and smirked. “Unfortunately, Pandora is only my half sister.”

“So she is the illegitimate child of the Bann?” Leliana mused. 

“Yes.” Eduard turned his head as best he could to meet her gaze. “She was born out of wedlock to an Orlesian Bard, two years after myself.”

“What can you tell us about her?” Cassandra frowned and folded her arms. 

He sighed. 

“We were close as children, very close. We were close in age, raised together despite my mothers protests against it. My two sisters are much older, and very dull." He waved his hand as if to dismiss them. "She was… despised by my mother and my sisters. I think she reminded mother that her marriage to our father was not a happy one, at least on his part. He was forced to marry her I believe. She also was...is beautiful; incredibly so. This sparked jealously from the Lady and my sisters. They were incredibly cruel at times.”

He wrinkled his nose.

“Beyond her childhood, I know very little. She was taken aged 9 to the Circle in Ostwick, when her abilities became apparent. I joined the Templars a day later, to try and see her again but… I never saw her since, although she wrote sometimes, which stopped after Kirkwall. Last time I heard from her, she had become an Enchanter under Senior Enchanter Lydia.”

“Lydia. She was the Enchanter assassinated at Ostwick which sparked it's cleansing right?” Cassandra frowned.

Leliana nodded. “According to rumour, yes. The mages who managed to escape Ostwick either disappeared or are reluctant to speak about the events. The Templars who took over on the other hand, relish in telling about the rebellion which sparked there, and how they stopped it.”

Eduard tried to sit up. “I must see her.”

But then he sharply inhaled breath, and blood spotted his bandage on his waist.

“No moving.” Adan had appeared at the mouth of the tent, having left the Herald to tend to some of the other wounded. “And I must kindly request of you to leave the tent for now. He needs rest.”

Cassandra and Leliana nodded and left, but Cullen remained. “Heal up soon, Trevelyan. You are needed.”

Eduard sank his head back and closed his eyes. “Yes sir; do not run off to another fight without me.”

Cullen left the tent and joined the two women.

“—My agents are gathering information as we speak. I wish to fill in the gap between now and the fall of Ostwick.” Leliana bit her lip. She hated not knowing and being unable to find out. The Herald had not so much as given her name, but thank goodness there was someone in camp closely connected.

“Your assumption was correct Leliana.” Cassandra nodded, trying to make her feel better and Leliana smiled slightly.

Leliana walked off towards the Chantry. Cullen stood next to Cassandra and their attention turned to the cabin where the mage slept.

“Why not just ask her?” Cullen mused. “And why was this not done sooner?”

Cassandra sighed and looked at Cullen. “When mages do not want to be known, they can easily disappear and cover their tracks only traceable by the Templars hunting their blood. Look at Solas- we have little idea why he came to assist us or where he is from. We tried to gather as much as we could, but with all the chaos.”

She gestured around.

“Do you trust her? That she did not do it?” Cullen’s brow furrowed. Cassandra had been close to Divine Justinia, as had Leliana, and he struggled to comprehend them trusting the mage so quickly. “You took to trusting in her quickly, arming her when she may have been a threat.”

“I-… She was at the conclave. She was there with the Divine, as we discovered when she sealed the rift. I do not think she caused the blast, nor do I believe she killed the Divine- but she was there and must know something.” She looked up at the Breach, “And yes, I do trust her. She came willingly and assisted me in battle, when I told her to disarm she did so immediately; she came with me willingly Cullen. And there is something about her, which is so hopeful and determined to do good… it is hard to explain.”

She laughed then. “I think she is well versed in magic to not require a staff- as we saw on the mountain.”

“If you trust her, I will accept your judgment.”

Cassandra patted him on the shoulder. “Pass your own, hopefully you will be able to. She should be coming round within the next day according to Adan. How do you feel?”

“Headaches and nausea. But I am still capable.”

“I know.” Cassandra nodded. “I was not asking about your ability, I was asking about you.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just hope I can show it is doable.”

“You can.”

He smiled. “I must check on the recruits and soldiers.”

Cassandra nodded. “I will send word if the Herald awakens.”

That word again. Herald. Cullen walked down the steps and shook his head. She could close rifts, so perhaps she had been sent by Andraste or the Maker - she was what they needed. But she was a mage, potentially a dangerous apostate at that. He saw the power she held. He had never seen movements like it, nor the ability to turn a demon into a ticking bomb of flames. He hoped she could be trusted. He clenched his fist and shut his eyes realising he was jumping to conclusions too soon: he had to leave the part of him that distrusted mages behind or at least dull the distrust a little. He was trying to redeem himself, trying to change the man he had almost become. The sweet relief of Lyrium, as it coursed through his veins, giving him power. The blood and the smell of magic residue, the twisted figure of an abomination. He stopped and breathed in slightly, sweat beading his forehead; shaking the flashback away. He had come to a stop before the cabin where the Herald lay in exhaustion. 

He peered through the window of her hut, where she lay, black hair strewn across the pillows, sweat beading on her forehead and muttering in her fever dream. They said she was beautiful- he had heard the soldiers and even some of the Chantry staff talking about her. 

He frowned turning and cast his eyes over the wagon of the bodies. So many men and women… She might be the Herald, have songs written about her but the men and women who fought for days on end as she lay in a cell. What about them? He kicked a box, angry about the lives lost but also himself, maybe his withdrawal was making him less capable… maybe the deaths were due to… He shook his head and moved to the training grounds where the recruits camped and were waiting to be trained.


	3. Chapter 3

Cullen arrived in the war room.

“Good day, Commander.” Josie nodded to him from her note pad, a smile creasing at the sides of her eyes.

“Josephine, I trust you have been busy the past day or so.” He nodded to her.

She sighed, stopping the scribble of pen. 

“Just a little. Especially as people are gathering in interest due to the fabled beauty of our Herald. There is much to do, a name to spread, supporters to gain.”

“Which should be easier now with the Herald awake.” Leliana shifted from her position leaning against a bookshelf. Cullen always marvelled at how skilled Leliana was at staying in the shadows, almost unseen and not noticed until it was too late. A true spymaster.

With that the doors swung open and Cassandra walked in, behind her the mage. 

“Commander Cullen you have already met.”

“Only briefly on the battlefield. I am pleased you survived.” He offered a slight smile at the woman. She returned the smile, her eyes sparkling in the dim candlelight. Her eyes left him, as Cassandra introduced her to the others. Cullen watched her; really seeing her for the first time, without the carnage of battle.

Her orb like eyes flickered over them all, the purple hues almost glowing, never settling on one person for very long and her eyes seemed to keep getting bigger. It occurred to Cullen that she was trying to piece everything together. It must be a lot to take in after such a long recovery. He wondered how he would cope. 

She looked very different to Eduard, clearly she resembled her mother more than her father. Her black hair was now neatly plaited over her shoulder, a few strands framing her face. She looked fresh and very young; she was two years younger than Eduard meaning that she was 25 years of age. She was small, especially stood next to Cassandra. Free Marchers were known for their height, more so than Fereldens and Eduard indeed was tall. He then noticed her nose, it seemed as though it had been broken at some point and below her right eye in an arch was a scar, the same he had noticed before. He wondered as his stomach jumped at the thought, if they had something to do with the fall of the Circle. 

“I mentioned your mark needs more power to seal the Breach.” Cassandra was straight to business.

“Which means we must approach the rebel mages for help.” Leliana added.

Cullen shook his head and folded his arms over his chest. “I still disagree. The Templars could serve just as well.”

The woman flickered her head and eyes between the speakers, taking in the information.

“We need more power. Enough magic poured into that mark-“

“Might destroy us all.” Cullen added crossly. “Templars could suppress the Breach and weaken it-“

“Pure speculation.” Leliana waved her hand in annoyance. 

“I was a templar. I know what they are capable of.”

He did not miss her shifting uncomfortably on her feet. He glanced a look at her, and noticed she was looking at him, with those eyes, a hint of uncertainty in them. He knew then that the scar and nose most definitely were Templar related. Her eyes pierced into him, before flickering away. He looked down, he had frightened her.

“Unfortunately, neither side will speak to us yet. The Chantry has denounced us, and you specifically.” Josephine broke the silence.

“They still think I am guilty?” She asked, a soft voice. It was tinged with sadness. 

“That is not the entirety of it.”

Pandora frowned. 

“Some are calling you- a mage- the Herald of Andraste. That frightens the Chantry. The remaining clerics have denounced you and us for harbouring you.”

“Chancellor Rodrick’s doing, I am sure.” Cullen grunted. 

“Wait- what?” Everyone turned to her, her face had paled. “How am I the Herald of Andraste?”

“People saw what you did at the Temple and the mark on your hand, you came from the rift and a woman was behind you. People believe that was Andraste.”

Her mouth moved but only a series of surprised noises came out. “But I am just-“

She frowned at the remark she had made and looked at her left hand. 

She was something in the circle, an Enchanter, a prodigy. One of the youngest to be made a mage and the youngest to rise to Enchanter. She was highly regarded by the circle and was on track to becoming the First Enchanter one day. In the circle she belonged, she was good and useful at something.

“-trying to-.”

She shook her head, not wanting to finish her sentence. She barely knew these people. She sighed giving up her sentence. 

“People need hope, Lady Trevelyan.” 

She nodded and her right purple eye seemed to glimmer brighter for a moment. Cullen swallowed hard, staring into her eyes, once again mystified by how bright they were, how genuine and full of hope. He sensed Leliana glance at him, she never missed a beat.

“I understand.” She shuffled on her feet then, heat rising in her cheeks looking a little uncomfortable. “I am really sorry, I can deal with being called Herald if it can give hope… but I am no Lady.”

She looked up around the table and she found her fiddling with her fingers, so she shook herself and stopped, clasping them behind her body. Lydia had hated her fiddling. 

“I am sure you know I am not a true Trevelyan and Lady Trevelyan would not be pleased if, well, I was called the same thing.”

Leliana nodded, smiling sadly. She did know. She had sent out her agents to gather information, she wondered if they could use the Trevelyan name, now they had two of the Banns’ children in the Inquisition, one being the Herald. But it was no use- Lady Trevelyan hated Pandora just as Eduard had said, especially as she had been allowed the privilege of her own children. She had tried to send Pandora to the Chantry, possibly seeing her as a threat to her own children’s claim, only for her to discover her magic ability- which seemed to intensify her hate, possibly at it had led to Eduard joining the Templars, meaning the name Trevelyan would not be carried on. 

This hatred was shared by her two daughters one serving within the Chantry as a Cleric, the other married to High Nobility in Tantervale and Leliana held no doubt that they were probably part of the voices condemning the Herald. They might have got support from the family, if the Bann was still alive- but he had died some years before, leaving his wife in charge.

“If the mages and templars won’t speak to us how do we approach them?” Pandora regained her confidence, and stirred the conversation back to the issue at hand. “I was an Enchanter in the Circle, yet it no longer stands. I am no rebel mage, thus cannot approach them easily and members of Ostwick are scattered; few are alive… The highest ranking died in the blast at the Temple. And I doubt the Templars would welcome me easily.”

She sighed and massaged her right temple. She also did not feel confident about strolling up to a group of templars; they would know she was an Ostwick mage and they would try to silence her. The Ostwick survivors had been hunted, relentlessly. She had been incredibly luckily to find the group of them on their way to the Conclave, including First Enchanter Ines. Her last links, the last remnants of the place she had called home for so long. Now they were dead in the ruins of the Temple.

Cassandra looked down at the small mage as she clenched her right hand into a fist. She felt pity for the woman who had lost so much in the blast as well.

“There is a Chantry cleric, Mother Giselle, who has asked to speak to you. She is in the Hinterlands.”

“Why would she want to speak with me?”

Leliana frowned a little. “She is reasonable, and is respected in the Chantry. She loses nothing to speak to you and might use it for her own benefit in the Hinterlands.”

Pandora nodded. “I will meet with her and see what she has to say. Hopefully, we can help those refugees as well.”

“That would be a good idea.” Josephine interjected. “We need to spread our influence and name. You are the best person to do such.”

With that the meeting was over. Cassandra and the Herald left the room first, leaving Cullen with Leliana and Josephine.

“She really is beautiful, no?” Leliana mused, smiling a little.

“Certainly. No wonder the sisters hate her, have you seen them?” Josie pulled a face and shivered. “I went to a ball a few years ago and had the pleasure of meeting Esther Trevelyan; she was as gruesome in personality as her face.”

“Josie!” Leliana nudged her. “What do you think Commander? It was said that she could enchant the men around her in the circle to do her bidding. Are you… enchanted by her beauty?”

Cullen looked down to the two women smiling at him, assessing his reaction. He sighed unsure about the game they played. 

“I had not noticed.”

“Oh sure, Commander.” Leliana raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her face.

*****

Cassandra and Pandora walked down the dimly lit corridor of the main hall of the Chantry.

“You did well.” Cassandra smiled at the small mage next to her.

“Thank you. I just hope I can help.”

“You already have.”

They walked through the Chantry and to the double doors. They opened to the fresh air of Haven. Pandora stopped in the light, just before the doors opened. She still struggled sometimes crossing the threshold to the outside. She looked to the soldiers guarding it, half expecting them to deny her exit. It had been a year since the Circle, but she still was not used to not being there. Especially since the majority of her time outside of the circle was spent within the confines of caves. 

His smirk flashed before her vision, blood dripping down his face and she blinked, she could even smell the blood, for it to be replaced with the bright light and the smell of flame burning from the torches in the braziers.

It was not real. It could not be real.

“Are you alright, Herald?”

A voice behind her spoke. She turned to see the Commander stood behind her. The vision of the blood soaked face still danced in her vision so she blinked slowly trying to dispel it. The Commander's copper eyes came into focus, full of concern. He was a Templar. She remembered that he had been a Templar. Meaning he was no longer. He had left the order. She did not fear Templars as such, she had never had reason to until the day Ostwick was annulled. She understood their necessity and she had known enough good Templars, they were warm to the mages mostly in Ostwick. Especially Ser Garrett; he had saved her from the Trevelyan house after she was left in the dungeon forgotten. He had been close to Lydia and had always watched over both Lydia and her young protégée. But the last brush with templars and the way they had made her powerless, draining the magic she relied on… she twitched her nose.

“No one is going to stop you leaving.” Cullen reassured her and he smiled a little crookedly, unsure what other facial expression to settle on, sensing she felt a little ill at ease. 

Cassandra was stood in the light, she had turned back. Pandora nodded and stepped through the door, Cullen followed to speak to Cassandra.  
 Pandora stepped a little way from them, resting her foot on the top stair leading down from the Chantry. She held out her hand to catch a snow flake. She had never seen real snow before, or she had in the mountains fighting demons but she did not have the time to marvel at it. She watched it melt in her palm, gloves made of bear leather and smiled. She was pleased with her new outfit, it fitted nicer than the black robe she had been using for the past year associated with so much pain and suffering. She shuddered pushing the images of him from her mind focusing on the snow flake. She had strapped a book she had found in her hut to the belt with every intention to read it once she got a moment to herself. She smiled brighter, her flashback now forgotten, staring at the snowflake, such a beautiful delicate snowflake. Here she was, with a green mark on her hand which could help people and part of the Inquisition; perhaps she could finally help people find hope.

“Pan?!” A shout dragged her attention from the water now in her glove, down the steps to a brown haired man.

“Eduard!” She ran down the stairs and felt her eyes sting from the threat of tears. She knew it was him. She had not seen him since they were children; but she had known it was him. Those warm hazel eyes had not changed.

He ran up towards her and they met half way. 

Cullen and Cassandra stopped their conversation at the noise and watched as the Herald was lifted into the air by Eduard, a wide grin on his face. The light shined behind them. 

Eduard held her up and Pan looked back, a full smile spreading across her face. Cullen was stunned for a moment by her smile; warm and full of love. A genuine smile. Heat rose to his cheeks, so he looked away, grabbing his neck. He had to admit that she was quite beautiful.

Eduard bought her down into a hug and they embraced for a moment, before she was placed firmly back on the ground.

“You saved my life on the mountain. Who would have thought, my little sister saving me?” He chuckled, but then he got serious as his eyes shifted over her features. “I thought you were dead… we only heard rumours about Ostwick… and I-. Wait. What happened at Ostwick? Is that where the scar and broken nose is from? And your eyes they used to be blue like the sky.”

She shook her head. “It was wrongly annulled with many innocent people and children died. It is in the past and cannot be changed.”

She pushed the thoughts from her head. Her mentor Lydia had taught her how to suppress certain emotions and memories, which could either prove dangerous to magic users or distract from casting. It had come in handy many times, but it was most useful to help her suppress the memories, keep the flashbacks and him at bay. Close your eyes. Keep it in a lock down. She heard her voice speaking calmly and she felt relieved. She sighed; she missed her mentor. The closest person she had ever had to a mother, which is all she had ever wanted.

“How did you survive?” Eduard frowned, concern clear in his hazel eyes.

“I-… I jumped from a window.” She opened her eyes and looked at him and his eyes filled with sadness. “I think the trauma may have changed my eye pigment slightly. I blacked out after the fall, and I woke far from the tower. So I am unsure why they changed colour as they have.”

She then laughed gently, gesturing to her nose. "It is how I broke my nose. Unlike cats, when I fall from heights I land on my face. As I did as a child if you remember."

He nodded. They had climbed the manor together as children, daring each other to jump from heights. They were skilled climbers, but not very skilled at landing. Eduard looked shocked and then bought her into a hug. “I am sorry for what you went through. I should have been there.”

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him. “It is not your fault. It is nice to finally see you again…”

“She jumped from a window?” Cassandra muttered. 

“It is a miracle she survived. I have heard from others, that was how many mages would end their lives in the worst circles.” Cullen murmured in reply. A few had jumped in Kirkwall, afraid of the Rite of Tranquillity which was handed out for the simplest of misdemeanours. 

“You have barely grown since you were 9!” He joked trying to lighten their reunion. “Well, you are back now. I never thought I would see you again. Thank the maker.”

“We have so much time to catch up on.” Pan smiled into his hazel eyes. He had rescued her so many times from the cruel pranks the sisters used to play on her. She was thankful she had saved him, to repay him for the kindness he had showed her. “I tried writing to you a few times but I never got a response.”

“Yes. When the rebellion sparked at Kirkwall things were difficult for a while. I would not be surprised if those letters were destroyed by the Knight Commander, before Cullen took over. The city was in chaos.”

Pandora nodded. “I understand. I am just glad you were safe, I worried when news reached us.”

He ruffled her hair and grinned.

“You always worried too much.”

“Someone has to.” She grumbled.

“Trevelyan.” Cullen ordered. Both of them jumped to order. “Eduard.”

Cullen added.

Pandora relaxed a little.

“Yes, Commander.”

“Now you are well again, I need you back to assist in the training of our recruits.”

Eduard nodded. 

“I will see you when I get back.” Pandora smiled at him.

“You are going?” Eduard complained. “You only just woke!”

She smiled. “I must help. People need hope.”

He laughed. “My little sister- the Herald. Who would have thought?”

He shook his head and gave her hair another ruffle. She muttered and tried to smooth it back in place.

“Keep her safe my Seeker.” He winked at Cassandra. She folded her arms and tapped her foot, frowning in mild disgust. “Lets have a drink when you get back, Herald.”

“Maker watch over you.” Cullen nodded and both he and Eduard walked towards the training grounds.

His thoughts turned to his own family. How long had it been since he had seen them? His brows creased, he could not remember. Perhaps it was the day he went to join the order? They still spoke in letters however and Mia was desperate to get him to come home to visit, but he had never had the time. He struggled to understand the animosity which clearly existed in the Trevelyan family. He had been extremely close to his two sisters and brother; even if one were an illegitimate child he doubted they would have hated the other so. Yet maybe that was the difference between a noble family and a simple farming family. The one of many differences he was sure.

Eduard heaved a heavy sigh. “The last time I saw her she conjured a storm into a ballroom when she was 9… barely a mage and now she is the Herald.”

“Conjuring a full storm? That is a rather big display of magic for someone so young.”

Eduard nodded and laughed. “It was hilarious. But, she was not, is not dangerous Cullen.”

He looked serious now. “There is a lot to take in. I can’t imagine what she must be going through. She hated being the centre of attention, which happened quite a lot. She was pretty even when she was young… now she really is beautiful.”

“I hadn’t noticed, Trevelyan.”

“Oh come on, surely you must?” Eduard sighed. “You are always so serious.”

“I am the Commander of the Inquisitions forces. I must be serious.“ Cullen frowned slightly, sensing where Eduard was taking the conversation.

“And I am second in Command remember, but I let loose; it keeps me sane.” Eduard folded his arms and looked at the Commander, concern on his face. “I know what you are doing: you have stopped taking Lyrium. Now more than ever, I think you need to spend time not focused on work.”

“This is serious, Eduard.” Cullen sighed looking up at the breach. “The veil has torn, and we must restore order to this world- that demands my full attention.”

“Not by working solidly.” Eduard sighed. “Come to the tavern one night, it would do the soldiers good to see you there.”

Cullen shook his head. “You know my answer.” 

They had had this discussion many times and Eduard had never gained headway. He had admired Cullen since Kirkwall- Cullen had obviously been scarred by the experience in Ferelden, he had distrusted mages even gone as far as not seeing them as human. Despite this, Eduard had seen that Cullen slowly change during his time at Kirkwall, slowly feeling more at ease and slowly seeing that what Meredith was doing was nearing insanity. She had ruled over Kirkwall with fear and misery. The Commander had restored some order to Kirkwall after what had happened- and Eduard had felt inspired to be commanded by him. They had formed something close to a friendship in the Circle and Eduard had been determined to show Cullen that mages were human, that mages could be trusted. He had seen him change into the man he worked with now, his attempts slowly making progress.

Eduard frowned. “Have it your way Commander.”

Now he was determined to get him relaxing a little more. He had stopped taking Lyrium to show that it could be done. Eduard truly hoped it could be. He knew if anyone could, it was him.


	4. Chapter 4

Commander,

We are making good progress through the Hinterlands, despite the war- we can barely move without stumbling across apostates or templars. The Herald has recruited Mother Giselle, and a few other agents from a cult in the Watch Tower to the North-west. We have secured food and warm clothes for the refugees, giving us much favour and influence with the people.

There have been a few stray rifts, which are now closed meaning the demon threat is largely gone. The Herald is a very skilled mage; I believe her quick thinking has saved me a couple of times. However, I do not know where she learned how to fight as she does, she has the dexterity and skills of a rogue; skills she surely did not learn in the tower. She keeps climbing tower structures or up mountain faces, leaving us behind as we are unable to follow. She really is a sight to see in action. She made us a meal a few nights ago, from some game we killed and herbs; I must say it may have been the tastiest thing I have ever eaten! I have alerted Leliana to her abilities, and perhaps she may discover more.

We have also assisted the Horse Master- expect some supplies and horses. The horses will be with us shortly. Yet we have a problem, the Herald seems to be afraid of horses… Odd as her family sigil is a horse. Thus we have sent the horses on ahead without us. They should arrive two days before we do.

Keep strong and maker watch over you.

Cassandra.

 

Commander,

We have managed to secure a few logging stands which may come in handy for materials back in Haven. I have also included in this letter a map with detailed locations and information about certain areas scouted for Watchtowers in the Hinterlands. I have tried to be as accurate as possible in my sketch. If these get built, we have been promised fresh weapon supplies, thus I believe it will be beneficial. We have sent some horses ahead of us, they should be with you soon.  
 I believe we are a two day walk away currently, yet the occasional stumble into a templar and mage battle stalls us a little bit. 

Pandora.

 

Herald,

Thank you for your update. I have sent some men to the logging stands, to ensure they are secure as well as scout the Tower locations. We will send the main party out upon your return. I agree, such supplies would be invaluable as would the security of the people in the Hinterlands. The horses arrived this morning, a fantastic gain for the Inquisition. Well done.

Maker watch over you.

Commander Cullen.

 

Pandora,

How are the Hinterlands? Caught any wild nugs? Things here are quiet since you left; well they always have been really. Training still fares well, but the paperwork keeps mounting on my desk- I do not know how the Commander does it, he always seems so sure and on top of his work. But then again that is all he thinks about. Keep me updated and get me a present.

Eduard.

 

Eduard,

The Hinterlands are spectacular! So many things to climb! I think the others are shocked to see a tower mage so adept at climbing, I struggled to explain that as children we often climbed around the Trevelyan house and places in Ostwick. Do you remember that spot on the roof we found, where the eagle had lain her nest?  
We saw a dragon earlier and it was beautiful. Did you know Cassandra's brother was a dragon hunter? She told me one night by the camp fire. She also told me you keep flirting with her- you need to stop that Eduard. She does not like it. 

No wild nugs have been caught, however I have got you a present. You need to spend some time on that paperwork, it needs to get done. If you do that then you might help the Commander. 

Pandora.

 

Pando,

What is my present tell me now!? Also I see that we have horses now… don’t get too close. You know how they act around you. Luckily for you the stables are out of the way… unless you need to see Herrick the blacksmith. Actually you will probably come across them once you are back. I will ensure to make a sign saying: “No Heralds allowed. She will scare the poor horses.”

Yes I have read Cassandra’s update report- she was very shocked to see you climb so. I do remember that spot, I sat there after you were taken to the Circle, trying to figure out how I could help you out. It was there I resolved to join the Order. How mother raged at me! She is such an awful woman. She keeps sending me letters, begging me to look at the marriage proposals she is thinking of making on my behalf. As if I would want to marry some dull noble woman. I burn each of her letters, I always have done. She was more concerned about loosing her grip on power than my own well being.

Ok I will stop flirting with the striking Lady Seeker… she makes it too easy. She gets so flustered. Like Cullen.

Eduard.

P.s It better a good present.

 

Eduard,

We are due back within the day. If I see any such sign, I swear by the Maker... I will do something. Varric told me about his nickname for you: Charming. It made me laugh, thinking back to how you were as a young child. Clearly your charms have improved. I need to find out his name for me… We can talk more when I return, do not think I have forgotten your promise of a drink in the Tavern.

See you soon brother.

Pan.

P.s don’t call me Pando! Or the present will be set on fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had played with the idea for a while of having Pandora and Eduard as full siblings, but both the illegitimate children of Bann Trevelyan. Yet no matter what I did with them, it did not seem to fit that well with the story, so I changed it to them being half siblings.  
> My theory behind having a sibling involved directly was that the Trevelyan's have a history of children going to serve in the Chantry or Templar... so surely it would make sense if Inquisitor Trevelyan had siblings they would be in either of those organisations and thus would pop up at some point in the story anyway. Cousland had her brother in Origins and Tabris her family in the alienage so why not? Then if one was a Templar, why not join the Inquisition due to dissatisfaction and work alongside their sibling?  
> I just liked that idea. :)


	5. Chapter 5

“Evil beasts.” Pandora muttered, as she stared at the stable where the horses nervously whined and pawed at the ground with their powerful hooves. 

She glanced over, with distrust; her presence even though not close to the pen, had disturbed the horses slightly, the stable hands having to calm some of the horses down as they reared. Pandora edged around them as best she could, emerging from the forest area outside Haven, having collected some supplies for Adan, the healer, to use. She felt indebted to the man, who had spent days nursing her back to health; feeling that finding him enough supplies to continue his good work was the best place to start paying him back.

The horse with brown hide, the one meant for her to use, seemed to stare at her the longest, its breath swirling like smoke in the air before it. As if it knew that she disliked it. She narrowed her eyes at it, and it reared, kicking the air with nervous energy. She shivered and turned away from the stables, still giving it a wide berth. She had feared horses since a cruel trick her half sisters had played on her as a young girl and the horses seemed to feed off her phobia.

She was so concerned with avoiding the stables as best she could, that she did not notice how close she was to the practice dummies and in particular to Cassandra, who swung down her sword.

“Herald!” Pandora jumped, springing up like a cat, just as the sword swirled in the air, missing her side by a few inches.

“C-Cassandra!” She stammered, eyes widening as the sword buried itself deep into the dummy. “I did not see you there.”

Cassandra made a noise of mild disgust, mainly at herself for not taking notice of people nearby, too absorbed in her practice. 

Pandora exhaled, and loosened her grip on the herbs, only just realising that she was gripping them tight.

“I was trying to avoid the horses.” She felt the need to explain, slightly alarmed that she may have annoyed the Seeker. “And-“

“No, the fault is mine Herald.” Cassandra sighed, as she noticed how deep the sword had gone into the dummy. “I was too immersed in my practice, I need to ensure that I am still aware of what is going on around me.”

“Are you stressed?”

Cassandra looked down at the young woman peering up at her with concern. She sighed.

“Perhaps. Or just thoughtful.”

Pandora nodded. 

“Why were you at the Conclave?” Cassandra flexed her fingers and pulled her glove higher up her hand. “You have never mentioned.”

“Have I not?” Pandora frowned slightly. “I went along with some of the higher ranking members of the circle, including First Enchanter Ines. We went to seek an audience with the Divine, to tell her the truth about what happened at Ostwick and seek some answers.”

Cassandra frowned. “What did happen?”

Pandora kicked up a bit of snow and shivered as a chill came over her. “As you already know, through rumour, it was annulled. However, it was so wrongly. There was no Blood Magic in the Circle. Lydia was not killed by a disgruntled student who had turned to blood for power. I saw her die…”  

She sighed, remembering waking up in her small box room next to the larger room of her mentor, feeling ill at ease and walking out into the corridor, lit only by the dim torch light. She saw a figure emerge from Lydia’s room, and she saw beyond the door which had been left ajar to see blood and carnage beyond, the body of her mentor on the floor. She was trying to scream, her eyes starting to glaze over, but bubbles of blood erupted from her throat and mouth- a slow but sure death. Luckily she had managed to scream, and use her storm magic to slow the advance of the figure; giving Ser Garrett who guarded their area time to arrive. Yet, the figure had managed to slip away, unseen into the night. Ever since she had only known chaos.

“Whoever killed her was a skilled assassin I am sure. The Annulment was never signed by the Divine or Grand Cleric, so where had the order come from? The Templar who cleansed us, were not our templar; they arrived from elsewhere.”

Cassandra looked at the mage with pity. 

"You never received the audience you sought?"

Pandora shook her head and then looked to the breach. "There are more pressing issues at hand now. Beyond a small mages circle."

“We have all lost so much thanks to this chaos.”

Pandora nodded. “It must be hard for you without the Divine.”

She had come to know Cassandra over their time in the Hinterlands, and she respected the woman who had clearly been rocked by the loss of her inspiration but remained so sure and true to her legacy. Cassandra had trusted her, when all evidence had pointed to her, Pandora Trevelyan as the guilty party in the blast.

“Every day I think: What would she do? What would she say about certain things which have occurred. I still find it hard to believe she is gone.”

Cassandra pulled out the sword with one swift movement.

“Am I doing the right thing? Is this really what she would have wanted?” She sighed readying her sword.

Pandora watched as she hacked at the dummy once more.

“Have faith.” Pandora offered a slight smile, as Cassandra looked up. “I am sure that is what she would want you to have. You are strong and mean to end this chaos. You are doing the right thing.”

Cassandra smiled faintly and nodded. “I do hope so.”

Pandora shuffled, looking at the herbs. “Anyway, I am sorry once again to disturb you. I need to give these to Adan.”

Pandora turned and headed towards the gates of Haven, leaving the Seeker to take her uncertainty out on the dummy, although she felt less uncertain now after the Herald had spoken to her, her eyes so reassuring.

Pandora hunched up her shoulders from the cold, her storm staff hitting the backs of her legs slightly every now and then. The recruits were not training at the moment and it felt odd not hearing the sounds of their practise. 

She ran up the stone steps and stopped at the top, breathing in the fresh air with a smile, despite how it chilled her insides. She turned her head to her left, a group of recruits were staring at her, murmuring in low tones. When their eyes met, they blushed and turned away. Pandora frowned slightly, wondering what they were discussing, but then pushed it out of her mind as she ran towards the next set of stairs. She instead of climbing up the steps, jumped onto the wall, and spurn around the statue of the Mabari at the top. Andraste had a trusted Mabari, which is what the two statues symbolised. She stroked the stone and a faint smile danced on her lips. 

She jumped down, with cat like grace and brushed herself off, straightening her jacket and checking her book was secure. Another group of soldiers stared at her, this time looking in shock. She offered slight smile, when she noticed they were in Templar armour clearly new recruits. They did not return her smile, but instead just stared at her. She twirled her fingers in uncertainty and suddenly wished she could shrink away. She turned and jogged to the cabin where Adan was busy within, feeling safer with someone else.

“Good day Adan.” She beamed at him as she walked in.

He turned to greet her and a rare smile spread across his face as he noticed the herbs in her hands. “You went to get them?”

“Of course.” Pandora mumbled. “You mentioned that you needed more supplies and I thought it was the least I could do.”

“Thank you, I shall get to work straight away Pandora.”

She smiled and nodded, turning to walk out again. He was one of the few people who did not call her Herald and she liked that. Luckily the Templar recruits had moved along. She disliked the way they had looked at her- distrust and something else: lust, a look which she knew too well and wished she never received. She tugged on her sleeve, pulling it over the end of her glove, thinking at how many problems had begun with her beauty. She walked back along the path, wondering who she should see next. She was trying to delay meeting the others in the War Room, to discuss their next move. She wanted some time to properly rest and get to know people. She took time to trust people, due to what she had been through she found it hard. Yet she felt safe with those she had travelled with; their time together helping her gain trust once more. She also felt like she was starting to know the advisors through the reports they wrote to one another. She looked up the the sky, the green glow an ever present reminder that time was not on their side.

She grimaced as her left arm reacted briefly. She had felt terrible pain in her life; but this was a new level. It occasionally did not bother her, but every now and then it would ebb back into existence reminding her of the power in her arm.

“Is it bothering you?” She turned to meet the quizzical gaze of Solas.

“Only a little.” She admitted.

“It is no longer killing you at the rate it was.” Solas narrowed his gaze to her left arm. “Yet it must still hurt. Would you like any remedies to assist?”

“I can manage, but thank you.” She smiled and he nodded in response.

“I am curious about something.“ He mused in his gentle voice.

“Unusual. It is me who usually is full of the questions for you.” She chuckled and she was pleased to see Solas crack a smile. On their travels she had barraged him with various questions relating to magic: he had explored the fade in great detail and she found his knowledge very interesting. She had a lot of time listening to other people, especially when they knew what they were talking about. Solas seemed to approve of the interest, as most people tended to switch off when he spoke of things in his interest.

“As a mage, you believe in the necessity of Circles correct?”

She nodded.

“You see a danger in the fade and the spirits within. Is that due to your teachings? Or something else?”

She tilted her head. “I am unsure what you imply. The fade is a place we can access in dreams, and magic users have a more potent ability. If this goes unchecked then demons may be able to possess magic users creating abominations. That is known fact.”

“You speak of demons, not spirits.”

She frowned slightly. “They are different?”

“Certainly.” He folded his arms behind his back. “And I thought you in particular would know this?”

“Why me in particular?”

He studied her closely for a moment, silence hanging between them. “No reason.”

She opened her mouth and then shut it again, confused. 

“Do you recall your harrowing?”

“Yes.” She thought back to the disaster that had been her Harrowing. The rabbits. She shivered.

“In the fade.” Solas re -directed her thoughts, sensing her mind drifting from where he wanted her to focus on.

“Oh.” She frowned. “I defeated a rage and sloth demon in the fade.”

“Were you helped?”

She thought. “Yes I was. By something glowing, it recommended I use storm magic and reminded me that it was the magic which had manifest itself in me when I was younger- thus meaning it was my natural alignment.”

“A spirit.” Solas nodded in confirmation. “Did anything else happen?”

“No. It was satisfied when I used my storm magic and faded.” She twitcher her nose. “Why do you ask Solas?”

He narrowed his eyes for a moment, looking deeply into her own eyes and then looked away. 

“I was just curious. Do you not have a meeting to go to?”

“Yes.” Pandora sighed. “Nice to see you while not fighting for our lives.”

Solas chuckled.

“He actually does chuckle?” Varric emerged from a tent, fresh faced and in clean gear, smiling at the elf.

“Does it surprise you?” Solas rolled his eyes.

“Not as much as when Curly laughs. That is just as rare.”

“Curly?”

“He means the Commander.” Solas raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“Why Curly?”

“His hair.” Varric stated matter of fact. “Charming due to his ability to woo almost everyone, apart from the Seeker. Ruffles for her ruffles on her sleeves.”

Pandora nodded, laughing a little. Ruffles he meant in reference to Josephine.

“What about me?”

Varric folded his arms, smirking. “Not too sure yet. Everything so far seems very cliche.”

“All your nicknames are cliche.” Solas shook his head.

Pandora looked to the breach and sighed; she had delayed too long and they would be waiting.

“I will speak to you later Varric.”

They watched her walk away towards the Chantry.

“What have you thought for her nickname?”

“I never realised you relished my literary abilities Chuckles.” Varric grinned. “I have played with a few, but Fairest is not sticking and that so far has been my favourite.”

“Fairest?”

“She is meant to be incredibly good looking and I agree myself, despite her height.” Varric grinned.

Solas thought for a moment. “I suppose I understand.”


	6. Chapter 6

She walked up the stone steps passed the Tavern, which despite the early hour of the afternoon was relatively lively with music and laughter. She paused for a moment outside one of the doors, to look in curious. She had never been to a Tavern before. People were smiling within, drinking mead and other beverages to forget the glowing green looming in the sky above. Pandora stood and listened, picking out the songs playing within, mixing with the laughter and murmurs of people enjoying themselves. Relaxing after a days work. She smiled, thinking about how she might be in there with Eduard later on.

“Don’t dawdle now.”

His voice whispered in her ear and she spun around, feeling his breath hot against her skin and cheek. Her heart thundered and she felt nausea rise in her stomach, to her throat.Her eyes darted around and breath quickened, looking for him. How could he be here? She was confronted by nothing- just a few snowflakes falling lazily from the sky and Tavern roof.

Close your eyes and keep it in a lock down. The calm voice of her mentor filled her head; as Pandora eased her breathing and she felt her heart beat slow down, returning to a normal pace. She was merely hallucinating, yet it had drained the energy from her making her feel less sure as before. Why was she having these visions or flashbacks about him?

She placed one heavy foot in front of the other, forcing them to move up the snow covered steps. A strand of her black hair had fallen in her face, coming loose from her plait, so she tucked it behind her ear.

The Chantry came into view and she was taken aback by the hive of activity which seemed to gather outside. She had wondered why the rest of Haven had been quiet as she walked through to give Adan herbs- clearly most people were either in the Tavern or gathering outside the Chantry. She walked closer, curious about what was happening.

“You cannot control us here!” A man with short hair, in mage robes brandished a finger at another man who was clearly a Templar from the symbol on his chest piece.

“You are a danger to others and yourselves! Irresponsible uses of magic.” The Templar roared in return, dismissing the mage with a single stroke of his hand.

Pandora felt herself move towards them, sensing that the situation could worsen if nobody intervened.

“What is going on here?”

She stepped in between them, and they turned to look at her, silenced for a moment by the beautiful woman with clear light brown skin and gleaming purple eyes. But the Templar seemed to tense as he noticed her storm staff, secured to her back. He narrowed his eyes and his posture became hostile.

“Another blasted mage.” He grumbled, turning to those behind him smirking. “The one from earlier jumping around.”

She turned her attention to the mage, clearly not making headway with the Templar.

“They want us to disarm, but do not seem to understand that we are reluctant to if they do not as well.”

The Templar turned from the others and with a snarl snaked forwards, hissing through his teeth. “Your kind killed the most holy.”

“Your kind?” Pandora asked, confused.

“Mages.” The Templar all but spat, his face very close to her own. “Mages like you.”

Pandora felt her heart sink and her eyes widened in shock. The hatred in the words he spoke cut her deep. How could she stand up to this man? And if this was the opinion of others in Thedas, how was she meant to give hope if people were so afraid and distrusting of magic? She was about to speak, to try and calm them down.

“Lies-“ The mage who had spoken to her frowned, jumping in before she had chance, and the Templar turned his attention from the small beautiful mage before him to the older one behind her. “Your kind let her die.”

She felt the thin rope which had been holding the Templar back snap as rage took over.

“Shut your mouth mage.” He roared, as the crowd gasped.   Pandora felt his gauntlet clad hand collide with her face, and next felt the cold snowy ground beneath her gloved hands, in her nose and face. She heard a sword slowly been drawn and ringing in her ears from the strike across her face- whether it was to move her out of the way or to help dispel the rage she had sensed, she was unsure. Her cheek stung, the snow a welcome sensation as it felt red raw.

“Enough!”

They had sent Cullen from the War Table to find the Herald as she was late to the meeting to de brief about what had happened in the Hinterlands and what their next move was to be. He was a little frustrated, as he had a pile of paperwork which needed sorting on his desk in his tent- the delay meant he was wasting time which could be spent elsewhere.

His symptoms of withdrawal had also worsened; he kept waking up in the night from the nightmares, drenched in sweat. He was tired, missing a normal nights sleep; his mouth becoming dryer and dryer each day craving the Lyrium. He had opened the to doors to the Chantry to confronted by the crowd gathered around the mage and Templar arguing and stood in the middle a bewildered looking small mage, with her large purple eyes, trying to calm the situation. 

He saw the Templar strike her away with incredible force, sending her small frame flying onto the snowy ground. He erupted, how dare he strike her the Herald, stepping forwards stopping the sword from leaving the sheath, staring down at the two men with disgust.

“Knight Commander!?”

“That is not my title. We are not Templar any longer.” He looked at each of them slowly with his copper eyes filled with rage, he was surprised at himself for how calm he remained, despite his rage within. “We are with the Inquisition now.”

He stared at the Templar hard, and the man shrank back, looking ashamed.

He then turned his attention Pandora on the floor. She had sat up slightly, looking a little dazed from the blow.

“Are you alright, Herald?” He lent down and offered her his hand.

Her breath swirled before in the cold air, her eyes darting to his own. He noticed with a sinking of his heart that she looked terrified and then he saw her cheek, it had turned a deep red. He was overcome with the urge to pull her close to him, to try and reassure her. Yet he knew that would be inappropriate.

“Herald?!” The Templar groaned from behind Cullen. “She is the Herald?”

Pandora took his hand and he pulled her to her feet, helping her remain steady. She was incredibly light. 

“Your cheek…” He trailed off, realising how close they were.

Her gloved hand went up to it and she winced. “I have lived through worse. Thank you, Commander.”

She offered a slight smile and then began to brush snow off herself, stepping away from him.

Cullen turned to the Templar, who looked sheepish. “I-I didn’t realise…”

“Huh, he said he wanted to have his way with her earlier.” Someone behind him muttered. It was meant to be barely audible, but their voice travelled.

Pandora stopped brushing herself for a moment, looking up from the Templar to Cullen, purple eyes widening in shock.

“Report to my tent.” Cullen growled to the Templar. They winced and gladly walked away.

“The rest of you, get back to work.” He commanded. At that the crowd dispersed. He turned to Pandora. “I will deal with those new recruits, you have my word Herald.”

She shook her head slowly, which shocked Cullen. “As long as there are no fights between the mages and Templar, I do not see an issue. I do not think it was the Templar alone, no doubt the mages had their hand in stirring trouble.”

She was not looking at him, and he sensed she felt a little embarrassed by what they had said.

“Mages and Templars were already at war and now they blame each other for the Divine’s death.”

She glanced at him and then looked away. “The blast did have something to do with a mage after all, so the viewpoint is justified.”

Cullen shook his head. “You do not know that you were responsible, you were sent to help in this time of need.”

She shrugged and tucked the loose strands of hair behind her ears.

“I was sent to retrieve you for the meeting.”

“Yes, I am sorry that I am delayed.” She looked at him properly and smiled in an apology. “But I had to deliver some supplies to Adan, for the wounded.”

They separated a little, distancing themselves from one another as they set off back into the Chantry. 

“A noble reason.”

It struck Cullen that this was the first time they had properly been together alone; they had spoke in the War Room in their first meeting, albeit briefly and sent a few letters while she was in the Hinterlands. But he still knew next to nothing about her. He glanced down at her, she was taking big strides to match his pace so he slowed slightly and then looked back to her cheek, the redness had faded a little.

“You travelled some distance to reach Haven.”

Pandora looked up as he spoke, and she noted that he seemed to be nervously fiddling with the hilt of his sword.

“You’re from the Circle in Ostwick?”

“I was.” Pandora corrected him. “It was some distance, especially when you are not used to being in the great outdoors.”

“That is- understandable. You never left the tower?”

She shook her head. “I was only a Junior Enchanter when the Circle fell. I was never required to leave. Only when it fell did I leave… yet that was not particularly enjoyable.”

“How so?”

“I-… got in with the wrong crowd.” She twirled her fingers around in front of her, not wishing to divulge much further. She did not know these people well enough, and there were more pressing issues than her own. “Plus I was afraid of the Templar who cleansed the Circle coming to find me.”

“Ah.” Cullen felt awkward. He had tried to research into the fall of Ostwick, when they left for the Hinterlands, but he had found little evidence about it. Even the Annulment, which was meant to be signed by the Divine or Grand Cleric, but there was nothing. It made Cullen feel a little uneasy. “Well we are glad for your- er assistance.”

“It is nice to be useful.” Pandora smiled, glad to be given the chance to change topic. “Especially when we helped the refugees in the Hinterlands, they are in such dire need of help thanks to this war…”

Pandora sighed, running her fingers through her hair in mild annoyance. She still felt uneasy around the Commander; after all he had once been a Templar and a Knight Commander at that. She could also sense he felt the same around her; as though he were unsure how to handle mages outside of the environ of the Circle.

Cullen reached the door to the war room and he pushed it open, holding it for her to walk through. She paused unsure of what he was doing.

“After you, Herald.”

“Thank you.” She all but whispered, smiling up at him and he felt the heat rise in his cheeks. As she walked in, he grabbed his neck and looked away. He hoped Leliana had not noticed.


	7. Chapter 7

The stars gleamed in the night sky, clouds gathered nearby threatening a change in weather and Haven was dimly lit by the torches around the small town. It bustled with recruits and soldiers in the Tavern easing the pain of training or scouting and listening to the bard songs of old and new. Pandora sat on top of one of the inner walls, the book usually strapped to her armour open on the stone next to her, her left hand supporting her weight as she lent over to read it, her right hand glowing with a dim light so she was able to see the writing. She wanted some time alone, and enjoyed sitting in the dark of the walls outside, when she looked up she could the world beyond Haven in its beauty. Yet she liked hearing the laughter and the sound of the songs. It reminded her that she was not truly alone and that people here had free will, and emotion.

Her legs were crossed over and her top leg bounced to the rhythm of the music floating from the lively tavern.

“Once we were not afraid of the dark, once we sat in our kingdom with hope and pride.” She sung to herself and turned a page.

She had swept her hair into a messy bun to keep it from falling in her face, although a strand or two had woven its way down, now clean and fresh after the week travelling. She had relished at sinking into the small tub in her cabin of hot water, and scrubbing away the dirt.

Her hair curled slightly in loose waves, framing her face slightly. She felt relaxed, something she had not truly felt for a long time. She was surrounded by good people, wanting to fix the chaos - people she was starting to warm to. Varric and his amazing stories, Solas and his brains, Cassandra and her kindness and bravery, Leliana and her cunning, Josephine and her grace and the Commander and his dedication. She realised that she had hardly ever seen him not working since returning that afternoon, either on the training fields or scribbling reports, or pouring over the war table. They had talked a little, after he stepped in over the mage and templar row outside the Chantry, but it had not been much of a conversation. She felt like she was getting to know the others: she had spoken to Josephine about Great Aunt Lucille's legendary balls, although she had rarely been allowed to go thanks to Lady Trevelyan, Leliana had joked that she knew the details of the night of the ball when her magic came to light, yet she did not know much about the Commander. Other than, he had served in Ferelden and Kirkwall. Eduard spoke highly of him in their letters.

She had met with them after coming back from the Hinterlands, the Commander breaking up a situation between Templar and Mage recruits, pulling her from the snow. She still shuddered thinking about what the Templar had been thinking about her. Most of her life, people singled her out for her beauty- Lady Trevelyan had despised her for it, even at the circle a place she felt she belonged occasionally someone would say or do something, and then when the Circle fell, the whole reason she fell in with that group of people was because of her beauty. 

She frowned, pushing the negative thoughts from her and focused on her book. She was reading about the Hinterlands, where she had just come back from. She smiled. She had loved every second of it, exploring a new part of the world and testing her magic. She had climbed so many hills and buildings, much to the surprise of the others who stood beneath unable to follow her direct path. She had felt useful, felt as though she were doing good- helping people and listening to their stories. She enjoyed it. In the Circle she rarely had chance to leave despite her level, and little chance to meet new people or help people, ordinary people. They were heading to Val Royeaux in a days time in order to meet the Chantry after Mother Giselle's information. Her confidence had grown due to the outing, she had helped people gave them hope and had seen so much. She felt sure that this time, this group she had joined meant to do good.

“We held together the fragile sky, to keep our way of life.” She hummed the rest, smiling and turned a page. 

She heard a noise from below and stopped her gentle singing and looked down.

“Commander?”

Cullen jumped with a start and looked up. He had left his tent, the dim light had been playing with his headache, for some fresh air and decided to walk around the interior walls, knowing most people would be at the tavern allowing him some quiet. The altercation he had broken up earlier was playing heavily on his mind: he hoped that Templar and mages would get along in the Inquisition. He had disciplined the men, reminding them of why they broke from the Templar and what they were now. They were meant to serve and protect everyone. Eduard had also been there, and was to take charge of them personally. Cullen like to walk this part of Haven, it was quieter than the rest with less light to play on his headaches. He had heard someone sing along to the bard songs from somewhere near the walls, but was unable to locate the source until she spoke.

“Herald!” He looked up, surprised. “I -I am sorry to have disturbed you.”

She was sat on a wall, reading a book. It must have been her singing. She looked relaxed and when she saw him her big eyes lit up. Cullen’s heart skipped a little. She looked peaceful, which made him glad. He was sickened when he the strike which sent her into the snow and even more so to see her cheek redden at both the strike and the passing remark.

“No need to apologise, Commander.” She smiled.

“I- er…How did you get up there?”

She looked around her and then back to him. “Well, I climbed.”

“Oh. Why?”

“I like climbing, always have done. I used to climb outside the tower.”

“You… climbed the outside walls of the tower?” Cullen looked at her with disbelief. The Towers were high.

“For fresh air and space to think, yes.” She began to twirl her fingers, getting a little nervous. “I know it was dangerous but…”

Cullen nodded, looking at her until she met his gaze, when his eyes quickly darted to the floor. He was unsure what to do or say.

She smiled again and snapped her book shut, securing it back to her belt and began climbing down with ease. Pandora made it look so easy, but Cullen knew there was no way he would be able to do the same.

She was before him now and still smiling.

“It is nice to see you not working.” She mused in that gentle voice.

He smiled wearily. “There is a lot to do.”

“I am sure. I also, do not think I had chance to really thank you for earlier.”

Her eyes bore into his.

“Thank you, Commander. You diffused what may have been a dangerous situation.”

He shook his head. “I was just doing my duty to protect everyone in Haven. The men have been dealt with, by myself personally. You have my word Herald, that will not happen again.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

They stood for a moment and Cullen cleared his throat.

“What are you reading?” He gestured to the book on her belt.

“Oh. No magic books. So no need to worry.” She joked. But she still felt it necessary to explain she was no threat. Cullen’s heart sank at the realisation that she quickly jumped to defend herself, from accusations of magical research. “It is just a book about the History of Ferelden- as I have never been here before so I thought I should… you know.”

She had never left the tower until it had fallen. She had told him so earlier.

“I used to read in the Chantry.” He smiled and looked up the sky. Pan cocked her head, intrigued at the prospect of the Commander in the Chantry. “I attempted to read the book you have now, however it did not appeal me.”

“When did you find time to read?” She asked.

“Whenever I could.” Cullen admitted. “I would often sneak into parts of the Chantry lit by candle in the night, in order to read books.”

Pan nodded. “When I was an apprentice, I would at night sit in the changing area or go into the library to read.”

 Cullen frowned. “Would that not be forbidden? The library at night?”

“Surely you would also have been prohibited from sneaking around at night Commander?”

Her lips turned in a smile and eyes sparkled. Makers breath, she was beautiful.

“Looks like the weather is changing.” Cullen looked up to the sky, grabbing his neck, the angry clouds covering the stars. The clouds glowed green nearer the breach.

She frowned and followed his gaze- a little confused by the abrupt change in conversation. 

“It would be nicer if there was a storm.” She sighed wishfully, staring at the green mass in the sky. It scared her slightly. She looked down at her left hand, the amount of power she had in one hand was troubling. “Thunder and lightning. Good things happen to me during storms, maybe it would close the breach.”

Cullen's lips curled into a smile. “That certainly would be preferable, it would make our job easier. I still believe the Templars would offer the best assistance. They have power and surely we cannot fight with more magic which could destroy us all.”

Her smile froze, but she inclined her head to acknowledge his viewpoint. 

“I know you are a mage and that you must not entirely trust Templars; but trust me- they would help.”

“I do trust you, as I do the others. I am still thinking about it but this is the way I see it.” She sighed, a little disappointed that they were back to talking about work matters. “A mage started this chaos. Started this fear of magic, making life harder for everyone involved including Templars. Fear is more dangerous than magic itself- as it is this fear creating chaos. Magic is dangerous, and in the wrong hands… But, there is a chance for mages to do something to show there is no need for fear and that they can help, they can be trusted. If mages play a hand in ending this- it would mean hope for all those affected, it might mean that the fear which has ruled us for so long might slowly begin to fade.”

She closed her eyes for a moment and then looked at Cullen.

“Commander, surely having the mages close the breach would show Thedas that despite the past, magic can work alongside us and help us in dark times. Those who started it, should end it.”

Cullen was speechless, her words hitting home; he never saw it that way before. He was afraid of the power that it would require and the potential outcomes. He never saw it as a way to help fix the chaos and mend the wrongs of the past; that perhaps power had very little to do with it. She was younger than him, yet she sounded as though she had lived many lifetimes.

“I never saw it like that before.”

“Do you… dislike mages?” She asked, sounding a little nervous about asking it. She shuffled on her feet.

“Maker, no…not anymore.” He rubbed his neck.

“Anymore?” She tilted her head, and looked a little worried.

Cullen cursed to himself and shook his head. “I have seen the suffering magic can inflict and treated mages with distrust because of it. That was unworthy of me and I will try not to do so here. But I can not let mages walk around unchecked. We need safeguards to protect people and mages.”

“I agree. Magic, in untrained hands but also in trained hands, can be dangerous. Circles need to change, yes, however they are needed; a safe place to practice magic.”

Cullen was shocked to hear her agree, he was prepared for her to debate with him. It was rare to find a mage who held conservative opinions about the roles of the Circle.

“What was life like for you in the Circle?” Cullen asked. He still struggled to imagine her locked away; especially if the Ostwick was like Kirkwall.

He was shocked to see her smile. “I was given to the Circle when I was 9 years old.”

“A very young age.”

“Indeed. But home life was not… the best for a bastard noble.” She sighed. “My father tired his best, to make the Lady and his daughters accept me yet they never did. If it were not for Eduard, I am not sure… I think I always had magic; but it came to light to everyone else when I was 9. Lady Trevelyan locked me in the dungeons, and I was forgotten for a day. I thought I would die alone in there.”

Cullen shook his head. “That is an inexcusable way to treat a small child. Surely your father could have done something?”

Pan shook her head. “He was powerless against his wife. Ser Garrett, a leading Templar at the Circle was among the two sent to collect me and he was kind to me. Ever since, the Circle was the only place I felt I truly belonged. I was not shunned for my lineage, nor feared for my magic. I studied hard and rose quickly. I understand now Ostwick was unlike most other Circles; the mages and templar seemed to respect each other albeit not all on the friendliest of terms, however it worked. We did not feel threatened nor hard done by.”

Cullen was shocked to hear that. He had always imagined Ostwick like any other Tower, the awkward silences and stares between mage and templar, distrusting. “And yet the Circle still fell.”

Pan nodded and then frowned. “Although, not through a rebellious circle mage nor a cruel templar. The person who killed my mentor and sparked the annulment was not a mage. Or a templar. I was there and I saw. As did Ser Garrett. We gathered evidence to bring before the Divine, to show we did not rebel, but then the templar arrived and destroyed everything…”

"We should investigate what you say, Herald." Cullen frowned and crossed his arms, feeling uneasy. 

She shook her head. "There are more important things to fix right now, than the fall of a circle."

Pan swallowed. “It is a little strange not being there.”

“Yes.” He nodded. "I struggled to adjust myself."

She smiled. “ I am curious though about becoming a Templar.”

“Oh, you are?” Cullen chuckled. She smiled as he laughed.

“My brother joined shortly after I was taken to the circle; I am intrigued at what you have to do. What training was there?”

“I desperately wanted to be a Templar, I could not think of a better way to serve and protect those in need. Much like your brother. I used to beg the Templar in the local Chantry to train me. Initiates had to memorise parts of the Chant of Light, study history, focus the mind as well as the combat training.”

“Did you enjoy training?”

“I wanted to learn everything. I was giving my life to the order I would be the best I could.”

“You were a model student?”

“I wanted to be. I was not always successful. Watching a candle burn down while reciting the Chant of Transfigurations was not the most exciting task and I admit my mind sometimes wondered. Your brother told me, he almost failed; I imagine he got irate.”

Pan chuckled. Her brother was not particularly religious.

“Do Templars take vows? I swear to the maker to watch all the mages? That sort of thing?.”

“There is a vigil first. You are meant to be at peace but your life if about to change. You give yourself to a life of service that is when you are given the first draught of Lyrium and its full power. As Templars were are not to seek wealth or acknowledgement. Our lives belong to the maker and the path we have chosen.”

“A life of service and sacrifice.” She frowned. It reminded her of becoming a member of the Chantry, a future she had been promised by Lady Trevelyan. She then thought to Eduard, if he had taken similar vows he had surely broken every single one. “Are Templars also expected to give up physical temptations?”

“Physical?” Cullen looked slightly abashed. “Why would you-? That is not expected. Templars can marry although there are rules around it and the order must grant permission. Some may choose to give up more to prove devotion but it is not required.”

She thought for a moment. No way did her brother take that vow. Without thinking it through she opened her mouth. “Have you?”

“Me? I-er- erm… No. I have taken no such vows. Makers breath can we talk of something else?”

He rubbed his neck, looking away. 

She was horrified that she had been so inquisitive and prying. It was their first conversation beyond the war table and she had asked such a personal question without properly thinking it through.

“It has been nice talking to you, we should do this more often.”

“I- Ah, yes I would like that.” He felt heat rising to his cheeks at her smile and he glanced away.

He nodded. She smiled. That smile...

“Have a nice evening Commander.”

“And you.”

She turned and walked away, massaging her right temple. She was so stupid. She blushed thinking if what she had done was flirting… She knew that it would haunt her for a long time. How could she be so clumsy? She was not even sure if she was ready, or if she liked the Commander in that way. Why could she not be charming like her brother? Why did she have to ask him that question?

At least they had talked for some length about things other than work related matters. She wanted a conversation where the Inquisition did not come into it and she wished people would stop calling her Herald. She struggled with it, and she felt false- how could she after all that had happened been chosen by Andraste? She shook her head, banishing the thoughts and sighed. She walked back into the light of Haven; the merchant had packed up his wares for the evening and was heading to the Tavern. She walked up the stairs, the two Mabari statues looking down at her; she glanced up at them, glowing in the light from the braziers.

“Pan.” Eduard sang, running up behind her. 

“Evening.” She grinned and he nudged her playfully.

He had swept his brown hair off his face. 

“I thought I saw you with our Commander. Having a chat.” He winked.

“Yes.”

“Don’t go corrupted him now.” 

“We were just talking.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t corrupt; you're the one who supposedly charmed his way through the Chantry. Varric told me.”

“Pah. He would not tell the story as good as I.” He looked up as the clouds darkened. “Shame, it was such a lovely evening.”  

“Do you Templars from Kirkwall just talk about the weather?” Pandora joked.

“No. I was making an observation as I wished to drink my mead outside the Tavern. The Commander talks about weather when he gets nervous, especially near beautiful women.”

“Shut up Eduard.”

He laughed. “Lighten up, Herald.”

He then turned serious. “I… heard about what happened earlier with those new recruits and the mages.”

“The Commander and I sorted it, however.” Eduard frowned and crossed his arms. “They shall never act like that again. I can guarantee.”

“Thank you Eduard. You always have stood up for me.”

His eyes twinkled and she smiled at him. 

“Well, I do not think you need much standing up for anymore. The reports I have been reading about you.”

Pan’s lips twitched in a slight smile.

“Join me in the Tavern?” She looked up at him, with his charming beaming smile.

“We have years of time to catch up on, how could I refuse?” She then twirled her fingers and blushed. “I have also never been inside a Tavern.”

“What?!” Eduard’s mouth fell open, but then he caught himself. “I do suppose as a mage… Well, come on then! Varric is inside too, telling some of his stories.”

She nodded and they walked side by side to the Tavern, passing the campfire. She looked up to the cloudy sky and sighed, it was not like she was going to sleep anyway. She did not sleep much anymore, she only slept for a maximum of 2 hours at a time, she had not had a good nights sleep since the Circle fell. She could also think of no better way to spend the evening, than with her older half brother.


	8. Chapter 8

She woke with a start, staring at the delicately painted orbs dangling from the ceiling, glinting in the occasional moonlight. She looked to her right, to the open window letting in a slight breeze. The night looked calm and peaceful, a slight red glow perhaps from sunrise or sunset. Which one she was unsure.

She sat up in the bed, and slowly shifted herself to one side, bare feet firmly on the ground. She looked around at her small private bedroom from the Tower: with her collection of books, desk covered in her research notes and the orbs above her bed, occasionally hitting each other in the breeze, making a twinkling noise. There was not a mirror in sight in her room. She had given it to another mage.

She stood from the bed, and grabbed a white cotton wrap around to cover her shoulders, as her blue nightdress was a bit revealing on top. She padded across the threshold, wondering what the time was, and touched the bronze doorknob.

Frowning, Pandora looked at the doorknob, releasing her grib. It was hot. She stood still and listened: faint crackling noises and what sounded like muffled cries for help. Fear gripped her and her magic flung the door open. Pan rose her hand to shield her face to the onslaught which momentarily faced her- the corridor seemed to be bright orange in hot angry flame. Embers floated lazily around her, licking her skin, causing some pain. She squinted, assessing how bad it was. As her eyes adjusted she realised that the whole corridor was on flame, and her eyes widened, what was going on?

She stepped into the corridor, everything was hot: people were crying, calling for help, there was laughter too and the smell of burning flesh. She bought the cotton wrap to her mouth, nausea building. Watching silhouettes of unknown people fling themselves through the flame, arms raised in pain.

“Pandora!” A quiet voice called out to her. 

She turned, shock filling her eyes as her mentor stumbled from her bedroom, which was aflame. In her back was a knife, firmly planted. She fell into Pan’s arms and she sunk to the floor, cradling her mentor. She felt hot sticky blood flow through her fingers and she clumsily tried to catch it, as though it would save her.

“Lydia!” Pan gasped, staring down at the emaciated face of her mentor. It was usually a full bright face, but she looked almost skeletal.

“They killed me, Pandora. They killed me to start the fire, to destroy the circle.”

A noise caught her attention and she looked up confused to see Ser Garrett before her, his armour shining brightly. His hair was ragged, his beard unkept, a bottle of mead in his hands.

“I failed her. And I failed you. You never found me after. I don’t even know if you survived.” Tears welled in his eyes.

“How could you Pan?” Lydia frowned, blood bubbling from her mouth. “You know that we saw you like a child we could never have.”

“I- What is going on here?” Pan shook her head.

Suddenly, the fire engulfed everything, and sent her flying back through to her bedroom and out of the window with huge force. She clawed the air, for something to grab to stop her, but there nothing but clear sky above. She screamed as she was falling, slowly turning around so she was falling face first from her open window, down three flights of the tower. Then all she saw was darkness.

But she felt someones lips on hers. She opened her eyes and staring back at her was him. He pulled away, and licked his lips, the evil smile dancing on his face. 

“I saved you. Come and join me, we can do so much together.”

“N-no. I know what you are now.”

He tilted his head. “I will give you so much power. Imagine what we can do.”

She turned around, and staring back at her were the people he had killed, and she had killed. Their blood fell from them, and snaked its way on the floor to him.  
She looked in horror at his handsome face, as he smiled.

“The most potent blood magic, is one which has arisen through the most pain.”

He dug a knife into her torso, and pulled it out. She cried out in agony but then screamed as his fingers went inside, digging deeper. She felt sick from the pain, and through teary eyes looked to him. She was alone, unable to fight and completely his.

“My beautiful noble.”

He touched her chin, lifting it up in that way he used to do it with power over her and confidence, the smirk dancing on his lips. But it was not him anymore. It was her step mother, leering down upon her smiling as she bled. She pulled out something which glinted in the dim light from behind her back.

“You are a mistake.”

She sneered, holding up a mirror before her face, before smashing it so that the glass shattered into a million tiny painful pieces. Pandora screamed.

 

She woke up screaming and thrashing on a cold wooden floor, the dim moonlight winking into her room. She felt weak and nausea rose in her throat. The room began to close in, it was too dark and too small. She was too alone. She stumbled to her feet, unsure how loud her screams had been and she clutched her mouth, semi blindly fumbling for the door; unable to recollect where she was.

She fumbled for what seemed an age, until she flexed her fingers in desperation, the door swinging open. She fell out of her cabin into the fresh snowy night air, face first into the snow.

Pandora breathed in rapid, shallow breathes and thankfully the nausea was leaving her. Her fingers ran through her face, still feeling the shards of glass lodged in her skin and then moved to her torso where the wound should be. She collapsed exhausted from the dream, onto her back, covered in the cold snow. Pandora looked up the clear sky, snow covering her and sighed in one long ghost breath, spiralling into the clear star studded sky.

“Clear skies.” She muttered and frowned.

Her breathing had returned to normal. She began to shiver, but it felt good to feel the sensation, to be outside.

“There!”

She turned her head, to see a worried soldier point at her and her brother stood next to him, worry clear on his face.

“Pan!” He dashed over, clearly just arisen from his sleep, hair messed and bed clothes hastily pulled on. “What are you doing?”

“Oh.” She looked down, realising that the noise she made must have roused the gate guard and that it might look a little odd. “I had a bad dream… about horses.”

Eduard grabbed her hand and pulled her up, assessing her with his hazel eyes.

“Stand down soldier. No need to alert the Commander.”

The soldier nodded, looking to the Herald in worry. “Excuse me Lady Herald.”

She offered a smile, which took a lot of her strength. “I am sorry to cause distress. I am ok. Just a nightmare.”

The solider nodded and left them.

“Tell me the truth.”

Pandora looked up at her brother, who was looking down upon her.

“What do you mean? I had a nightmare about horses…”

“You were always a terrible liar.” Eduard crossed his arms; he looked tired and Pan felt guilty for disturbing him. “The solider came running to me, as my tent is first from the gate, convinced you were possessed.”

“Yes, a nightmare.”

“But not about horses.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “You can tell me you know? What really was it a nightmare about?”

“I-I do not want to say.”

“But-“

“Please Eduard.” She begged him. He stopped talking, hearing an edge to her voice, seeing pain in her eyes. “I am not ready yet.”

 He nodded slowly, still looking at her with concern. They had wasted time in the Tavern; laughing and talking about their separate experiences since they had left as children. He had listened to her speak of the Circle, her mentor and the friends she made there; she spoke of them in such a way that made him feel like he had known them too. He wished he did. He could have been placed in Ostwick, if only he had pushed harder, trained more rigorously in the Chantry, pleased the correct people. He could have been there for her.  

Eduard had told her about his time in the Chantry, sneaking into the dark corners with the apprentice clerics and even a few templar recruits. He only briefly touched upon his returns back home, mostly by his mothers demanding and string pulling. When their father died, he never went back again. Second drink in, they were laughing with Varric, who was telling stories about Kirkwall, reminiscing fondly about his adventures. They listened eagerly and laughed merrily, it was hard not to with the famed story teller. But never once had they touched upon the bad times. Eduard still could only guess what had happened to her when the Circle fell and after.

“Wait, here.” He pointed at her and dashed away.

Pan frowned, watching him disappear and then return and bundle in his arms.

“I want to make sure you are ok, otherwise I would not be able to sleep.”

He grinned. Pan looked at the bundle, realising it was his sleep roll.

“Eduard you-“

“Yes, I do need to.” Eduard cut her off. “I failed you when you were taken to the Circle Pan. You don’t need anyone to protect you anymore, but you need someone to help you through whatever it is and I would feel better knowing you are not alone.”

Pandora found herself smiling, her heart warming.

“Thank you Eduard.”

He winked. “What are siblings for? It will be like old time even more, apart from I am starting to get a bit of a hangover… I am not as young as I used to be. Those 3 mugs of mead have played with my head a little.”

Pandora chuckled.

“See.” He nudged her. “A smile always makes it better.”

She shivered.

“Come on.’

He motioned his head. The two siblings walked back into the cabin. Pandora looked around, thankful that it did not seem as small and constrictive as when she first woke. They spoke for some time, before Eduard drifted off, falling into a slumber his gentle snores humming around the cabin.

 Pan lay on her bed, wide awake, not wanting to sleep again nor able to. Instead she shuffled into the moonlight, her book floated over from the bookshelf, falling open on the right page before her. As her brother slept, she read, keeping the nightmares at bay.


	9. Chapter 9

Commander,

We are en route to Val Royeaux and awaiting to board the ship which will take us across the waters. The Herald still does not ride on horseback, meaning our progress is slower than it should be. In reply to your last letter, I do not believe you shall need such, but I will take over Command if you deem yourself too unstable. However, surely Ser Trevelyan would also be in such a position to take over?

Maker stay with you

Cassandra.

 

Commander,

We write with some troubling news from Val Royeaux, I have no doubt the scouts will be reaching Haven with similar news. I managed to catch one of Leliana’s ravens which was watching over us in the main square, so this letter should arrive in swift time.

The Templar have abandoned Val Royeaux, deeming the Chantry and the people unworthy of its protection. We met Lord Seeker Lucius, who did not seem very accommodating towards me or the Inquisition. I doubt we will gain the support from the Chantry we sought, as they seem to be in chaos. 

Yet, two potentially good things occurred which may mitigate the bad. A friend of Red Jenny named Sera made contact and I have allowed her to join us- her connections to the common people will be invaluable. From punishing a noble in the allies, with guards with no breeches, I was then invited to a gathering where I recruited the First Enchanter of the Circle; Madame Vivienne. 

They should be arriving to Haven shortly. I have decided on going to the Storm Coast (I promise not just to ogle at the storms) to follow the lead on this Iron Bull. I mentioned to you that one of his company approached me in Haven?

How does the training go?

Pandora.

 

Herald,

Thank you for your timely report. Your letter actually arrived before the scouts, most likely due to the Ravens fast flight. Leliana seemed a little surprised that you managed to catch one of her ravens. How did you manage such a feet?

That certainly is troubling news. The Templars gain little by making such a move, they will just spread the fear, unless they truly believe they have the power to stop the breach in the sky. Please do not take their actions as the actions of all the Templar. Good people still serve, and I am sure we will gain more recruits as a result. I imagine Cassandra is non too pleased.

Good work; gaining new agents and members is important in spreading our influence and will make approaching others for assistance easier. I have heard of this Madame Vivienne, a force to be reckoned with by all accounts. No breeches?

I do remembering you saying you liked storms. Investigating this Bull character is certainly an excellent idea, I imagine you will be taking a ship perhaps? I have only been on a ship twice in my life, once to go to Kirkwalll and then to leave. The view of Ferelden is spectacular, you should see it on the return ship.  
The recruits are training well, and improving every day: I am lucky to have your brother guiding them, the task for one man alone would be too great.

Herald, I do not wish to pry, but the gate soldier spoke to me of an event with occurred at night luckily your brother was on hand to assist. Do your require any additional comfort in your cabin? Soldiers stationed closer? I will happily organise any request you have, if it makes you more comfortable. 

Maker watch over you,

Commander Cullen

 

Commander Cullen,

Perhaps from now on I should use the Ravens. I shall ask LEliana when I return. Also, I have noticed something about those birds… Is there some magic involved in them, or intense bird training? Wherever we go, one of them is always perched somewhere waiting. When it then sees us, it squawks and flies away. Are the ravens part of the spy network? I wish I could tell you of some grand technique, but all I did was jump on the poor thing giving it a fright.

I do not take their actions to equate to all Templar. I have known many good Templars, including yourself and my brother. Those I have encountered acting any other way, I have known do not represent the order. Cassandra has been slightly more disgruntled than usual. I think seeing the Lord Seeker in such a way has affected her somewhat.

I know space is tight in Haven, but we must ensure our new members are well seen to and accommodated. I doubt I have to tell you that however. Yes, apparently one of her friends stole the breeches from the guards... I must say it was slightly amusing yet I think the ordeal has scarred me somewhat!

We did take a ship, not to the storm coast, but just further down west along the coast. I must admit, seeing Ferelden from the ship was a welcome sight- is it odd that this place has become my home more so than the Circle? It was so green from the ship, and much nicer than Val Royeaux. That place was too grand for my liking.

We have made contact with the Chargers and the Iron Bull. He has offered his services to the Inquisition and they are travelling back with us. They are excellent company, and very heavy drinkers.

Good work, it is certainly a welcome sight when we see Inquisition soldiers in the field. Do not tell Eduard that… he will never let you forget it.

Thank you for your concern Commander, it was just a nightmare. I am sorry to cause a fuss and give that soldier a fright. My cabin is perfect as it is.

 

Pandora.

 

Herald Pandora,

I do not think there is magic involved in the rearing of the birds. Yet I would imagine that they are somehow involved in the spying; Leliana is the best updated of anyone in Haven. I noted that the bird Leliana had was missing a few feathers.

That is a relief to know. There are many things wrong with the order, hence why I want to distance myself from that part in my life but they are still worth trying to restore. Templars are a neccsitiy to serve and protect.

I noted her mood from the reports she has been sending. it is hard to swallow when someone you knew makes a poor decision or changes into something unfamiliar. 

I have seen to it that they are well looked after: Madame Vivienne has taken up living in the Chantry, she is incredibly insightful but also surprisingly conservative in her outlook and Sera… she insisted on the Tavern. She is a funny character, she told me that my hair resembles some sort of string thing and then proceeded to say we need bees. You can read the report yourself when you return. 

That is good news, our numbers grow more each day, with the influence you are spreading. There is space outside the walls for the chargers; we are starting to struggle now with room.

I would never dream of telling him, unless I really had to. He already takes his nickname in his stride too much.

If you ever need anything just ask. 

Maker watch over you,

Commander Cullen.

 

Pan,

I have had only a few letters from you, yet I notice that the Commander has a few more from you... Do I sense something blossoming? All of them are strewn across his desk, clearly read through regular by his beady eyes.

In reply to your last letter, yes that was the correct fabric I wanted from Val Royeaux thank you.

I await your return, fairest.

Eduard.


	10. Chapter 10

The small door leading to the Chantry remained open whenever she was back in Haven. Pandora was unsure who had made that so, but she was grateful. It made it a little easier for her to walk inside the dark building. At least she could still feel the air within. She passed through the threshold, and walked along the stone floor, her boots clicking slightly on the granite. 

She had made her mind up. She was going to side with the mages. Pan had thought about it since leaving Val Royeaux; she had been approached by the Grand Enchanter, offered an opening which was more than the Templars had given. She summoned the war council to let them know of her decision. As she walked she twirled her fingers around before her, nervous. She was still unused to having such power, and making important decisions… But the others could not seem to agree diplomatically on which side to approach first. She felt as though she had to add her voice.

She peered at her left hand, expecting the green mark to glow menacingly at her. It still throbbed and hurt sometimes, but she refused to complain. She had felt worse pain. She continued to twirl her fingers: wondering how to word her thoughts and the reactions she might see. She was a mage. She was worried that it would appear as though that was why she had chosen them.

Pan looked up, to see Leliana, Cassandra, Josephine and Cullen stood talking at the bottom end of the Chantry. Waiting for her. She sucked in a breath.

“Oh darling!” 

Pandora jumped and turned to see Vivienne stood slightly to the right in an alcove of the Chantry, books sprawling across the table. Pan smiled and walked over to the beautiful and regal woman, whom she had met only a few days before. They had returned from their diversion to the Storm Coast earlier that day, she had had little chance to acquaint herself with the newer members of the Inquisition. She was intrigued by the elegant First Enchanter and welcomed the excuse to delay the inevitable.

“You came from the Circle at Ostwick, did you not? Senior Enchanter Lydia was a dear friend of mine were you at all acquainted?”

Vivienne knew the answer, but she still waited for Pan to respond. She watched the beautiful young girl with light brown skin and black hair. Pandora Trevelyan. Vivienne knew her through the letters Lydia used to send her, she had written highly about her young protege and Vivienne was intrigued to now find her as the supposed Herald of Andraste. She watched as Pandora twirled her fingers around, from nerves and her timid nature. She hoped that speaking to the girl would help in her confidence.

“Lydia was my mentor. She was like a mother to me… a mother I never had.” Pan sighed wistfully and peered at her fingers, frowning a little.

“I never knew anyone wiser than she. I was an apprentice at Ostwick, before I was moved and we were good friends. We wrote often when I left. She once wrote to me about a young apprentice she had in the Circle, who grasped the essence of magic much quicker than any she had seen before.” Vivienne folded an arm across her body and rest her cheek on a long elegant finger. “She wrote fondly of this girl.”

Pandora smiled and looked up but then down again, twirling her fingers.

“She also mentioned an infuriating habit this girl had, of twirling her fingers when nervous.”

Pandora stopped immediately and shoved her hands to her sides.

“My dear, I cannot fathom the difficulty you face. From being moulded to become the First Enchanter of Ostwick, to watch the Circle fall and then be bestowed with such power… take it in your stride. Lydia would have been proud to see you in this role: the kind acts and decisions you have already made shows her wisdom passed on within you.”

Pandora shook her head. “I doubt I shall ever be able to compete on the same level as Lydia did. But thank you Vivienne.”

Vivienne smiled down widely at Pandora, when she was not looking. 

“I understand she was killed by one of her students when the Circle rebelled?”

She was going to add more, but Pandora began to shake her head.

“Lydia was not killed by a student.” 

Pandora looked up at Vivienne, and Vivienne was taken aback by the pure purple of her eyes. She wondered if magic had caused such an unnatural change in colour. 

“The Circle did not rebel. I saw the person who killed Lydia, they were no mage and they vanished with no trace, despite the efforts of the Templar to track them down. Then a mere week later we were annulled: classed as part of the rebellion."

“So how do you think this sordid tale of rebellion should end, dear?” 

Vivienne narrowed her eyes, unsure how to react to the news that the Circle may have wrongfully been cleansed but also wishing to understand more about the young mage before her.

“I … do not know.” She smiled sadly. “Yet still too many people have died in this war and both sides suffer the consequences and realities of magic. Magic can be dangerous. Yet mages can assist life, if allowed and the potential dangers are remembered: magic could serve people, help people, rather than cause fear.”

Vivienne was speechless for a moment. She was merely 25 years old, yet she spoke as though she had seen so much… Vivienne’s heart fell realising that when the Circle fell, she probably saw enough. Lydia would have been saddened to see her young apprenticeship like this to whom Vivienne was sure treated like the child she almost had, the child which might have ruined her reputation and that of the Templar at Ostwick; a secret very few knew. Vivienne had lent her ear, she had Bastien. She could understand. She also understood now why Lydia had taken a shine to Pandora.

“My dear, that is very admirable.” She looked behind the young mages shoulder, to see Cassandra checking on the Herald.

Pandora looked over her shoulder.

“Madame, it has been lovely, but you must excuse me.”

“My dear, I shall lend you my ear any time. If you would like also, later I may teach you something about ice magic?”

Pandora cracked a beautiful smile. “Thank you, I would like that.”

She turned on her heel, the hooded cape of her robe swirling behind her and she began to fiddle with her hands again, as she walked to Cassandra, still unsure how to word her decision.

“Hands dear. Have some gumption.”

She stopped twirling and inclined her head behind her shoulder and laughed. Vivienne smirked and hmphed. 

*****

Cullen frowned and stared down at the reports on the desk before him. His tent was small, located just outside the walls of Haven, so he could be near the troops. He had managed to secure a make shift desk, to place the numerous reports he received daily: updates on missions he would send the Inquisitions forces on, intel from Leliana and letters from the Herald and her party.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as his headache spiked in pain. He had woken up that morning feeling the withdrawal worse than usual, sat bolt upright in his bed, drenched in sweat. The nightmares were the worst, reliving the torture in Kinloch hold and more recently images of the new people he had met, being sluaghtered. Cullen often woke himself screaming; the first two times Eduard had come running, but it seemed he was now getting used to it. His tent was nearest Cullen's. 

That morning he had to peel his body from his wet bed clothes and wash himself numerous times with the tiny wash bowl. Usually the coolness of the water would soothe him, but that morning it had done little.

His hand grabbed at the mug of water on his desk and he raised it to his lips, hoping that it would ease the pain somehow knowing that most likely it would not. As he lowered the mug back onto the wood, his eyes drifted to some letters on his desk corner. The writing was cursive and elaborate, care taken in writing every single word. They were her letters, updates from the field. His lips curled in an involuntary smile, just from looking at them. Their correspondence had moved from quick updates and routine pleasantries to detailed accounts of their days and conversations. He looked forward to reading her reports and letters, usually brightening his days somewhat.

He sighed, shuffling other papers on his desk, attempting to organise himself to provide her support in Redcliffe. She had chosen the mages. He lent on the desk and frowned at the reports, the words scrabbling around on the page. 

They had been approached by the Grand Enchanter, an elf named Fiona, in Val Royeaux with an offer of an alliance and the Templar had not been too accommodating. It was a sensible decision, but the work that lay ahead of him increased ten fold. He needed to ensure that mages were safe in Haven, from the demons in the fade and from other people.

The words on the page before him realigned so he could read it. He picked up the report and peered at it. It was an instruction for troop deployment to Redcliffe and the Hinterlands. A runner had arrived with it, supposedly from the Herald but as he studied it, he noticed it had not been signed by her.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance, that the runner had not checked properly and at himself for not checking earlier. He quickly swallowed another mouthful of water, some of it dribbled down his chin, so he quickly swiped it away. He grabbed his fur overcoat and fixed it to his armour and stepped outside the tent. 

He breathed in the cool evening air, filling his lungs deeply. There were a few places she could be at this hour. She could be spending her time with Vivienne in the Chantry: the Madame had once been an apprentice in Ostwick and had known her mentor, she seemed to have taken the Herald under her wing slightly. She could be climbing the walls as he had reports of soldiers seeing her at different vantage points in the evening times, either reading or writing in the books clipped to her belt.  
 He started walking, up the stairs to the entrance of the main village. He thought the best place to start was the Tavern, if Eduard was there then she might be too.

As he neared the wooden building, light and music filled the air along with sounds of laughter. He pushed open the door to the thriving Tavern. Varric was sat at a table, entertaining those around him with his many tales. Eduard was leaning in a corner, with a giggling group of women around him. The Bull and some of his chargers were in the far corner, laughing heartily. He was unsure where Sera, the girl the Herald recruited in Val Royeaux was. He was also unsure where the Herald was. 

He felt uneasy as he edged himself in, moving towards the bar area which seemed less busy than the rest of the Tavern. He was about to wade through the crowd, which he did not particular want to do- he still struggled with crowded areas, it took his thoughts back to Kinloch, when someone said his name.

“Commander Cullen?”

He turned to see the Herald sat on the bar, one leg dangling down with a book open in her lap.

“Herald.” He nodded and handed her the report. “I came looking for you. There is a signature missing on the release report to move some of the troops to Redcliffe in order to support your first contact with the rebel mages.”

She shifted, her hand reaching out to take the report from him. She placed it on top of the book, and he watched as her eyes scanned over it. Despite the liveliness of the tavern, she looked at peace in her area of tranquility. 

As she fumbled with pouches on her belt, the bar maid appeared by Cullen's side.

“Oh Commander. It is rare to see you here. Have a drink.” She pushed a mug of ale into his hand.

“Ah, no thank you, I am not staying-“

But before he could hand it back, the barmaid had scurried off, tray laden with mugs overflowing, ignoring his protest.

“There, I have signed it for you.” She passed it back, smiling. He took it and placed it in his coat. “Commander you must stay and finish that drink.”

He looked from his mug to Pandora.

“I-er- do not really enjoy Taverns as such… I think it is inappropriate for a Commanding officer to do such.”

“Eduard thinks differently.” Pan nodded to her brother, moving both her legs to dangle over the bar, so she was better positioned to talk to the Commander.

“Ah. Yes.” Cullen followed her gaze. Eduard pushed back his hair and laughed in that charming manner, causing a few blushes and giggles to emerge from the women. “He has always frequented the taverns, especially the Hanged Man in Kirkwall.”

“Isn’t that where Varric also used to frequent?” Pan tilted her head curious.

“Indeed. However, I do not think they formally met until the Inquisition.”

“Did you ever go?”

Cullen frowned and shook his head. 

“No. I was not in a very good place when I first arrived at Kirkwall, and as I rose through the ranks my job led me more to discipline those who did go under orders from the Knight Commander.”

“So, you disciplined my brother?” Pandora smirked a little bit.

“No, in truth.” Cullen laughed. “He always seemed to avoid getting caught, yet we all knew. What about you Herald?”

“This is my first Tavern.” She looked around beaming. “I love watching people here and hearing their stories. Sometimes, it is nice to remind oneself that relaxing is still ordinary despite everything. And that despite everything people still have songs and laughter.”

Cullen leant back and found himself taking a sip of ale. It tasted better in the Tavern than it did in his tent. They were silent for a moment, watching the scenes around them, as the bard Maryden began to softly sing Rise. It was not an uncomfortable silence however, it seemed natural and laid back. He saw recruits who today had limped from the training fields, in their chairs laughing and exchanging stories. He then looked to the Iron Bull, he seemed to enjoy the company of the men he commanded and they seemed to respect him, from what Cullen could gather in the very short time he had seen and known of the Qunari.

“I have never seen it like that before.” He admitted and then he looked to her. “I also suppose the company in these places make them worth while too.”

Pandora bite her lip and blushed, looking down in her lap. Cullen's eyes widened and he took a hurried gulp of ale, at his realisation that he was flirting.

“What is your book this time?” He tried to change the conversation, almost blurting the words out.

“No book as such.” Pandora cleared her throat. “It is a notebook, where I write down thoughts that come to me, or magic related things I see. I have made some notes on Red Lyrium, as clearly Varric is slightly perturbed by the veins appearing over Ferelden. But…”

She flipped the pages and then leaned over to show Cullen. He leant closer to see.

“I can make extensive notes: the Circle trained me in that, but I am really rather bad at drawing.”

She flipped through pages, and Cullen scanned them, as they moved from detailed notes in her handwriting to the images. One he thought looked like a Nug, or an abomination, which he was unsure. 

“I would not say you are bad…”

“Well what do you think it is?”

“…A nug.”

She frowned and turned to look at herself. “Oh, I see. No it is not a nug. It is a flower.”

“Ah- well…”

Pandora laughed and Cullen smiled to see her laugh so merrily.

“No need to worry about offending me Commander. I know I am bad at drawing. So, because of that I asked Solas to sketch the storms we saw in the Storm Coast for me.”

She passed him the book and he looked at the detailed drawings of the rain and lightning, even a Dragon along the coast. He looked up at her, and her eyes wide in amazement at the images. They were very close. He could even smell her, freshly bathed, hints of herbs in her hair and fruits.

“I can see why you are intrigued with storms, if they are as magnificent as Solas has depicted.” He swigged more ale and handed her the book back.

She nodded, shutting the book and securing it back in her belt. “Storms are so incredible to behold, so powerful but also dangerous. Which is always important to remember.”

Cullen smiled. She smiled back. He shifted from his leaning position and coughed.

“Thank you for taking time to sign the report." He smiled. "Here, I need to get back to work.”

He gave his mug to Pandora, who took it.

“You drink the rest.”

“Thank you Commander.” She frowned slightly. “But I think I will give this to Sera.”

She turned her head over her shoulder; Cullen looked around to see the elf girl on the floor behind the bar, tinkering with something.

“Sera?”

“Noble pants?” Sera stuck out her tongue.

“Would you like some more ale?”

“Yeah, ta.” She stood and took the mug and looked to Cullen. “Cully.”

She then returned to the floor.

“What is she doing?”

“She mentioned something about flour and face presses of certain people. I think she intends to prank a few of the more vein noble women. Or she is creating some form of flour bombs.”

Pandora shrugged. 

“I- Do not think I want to know.” Cullen admitted, looking back to the Herald.

She smiled widely. That smile.

"What are you drinking?" He inclined his head to the mug beside her.

"It is a herbal mixture, Adan made for me." She flexed her left hand and Cullen nodded, knowing that it must cause her some amount of pain.

"The mark must hurt."

"What?" She frowned. "No, it is not for the mark, it is ... to help me sleep a little bit better."

"If there is anything I can do to make your quarters more-"

"Commander, my cabin is perfect thank you." She smiled. "Oh, before I forget, Leliana has given me my own messenger Raven- so now I have company in my cabin!"

Cullen chuckled. "Excellent news, I looked forward to reading more reports from you."

"I look forward to reading more from you."

She kicked her legs against the bar and looked down.

“Good evening, Commander Cullen.”

“And you, Herald.”

Cullen returned to the fresh evening air of Haven, and rummaged for the report. He opened it, to look at her signature: just Pandora. He smiled and looked to the sky, realising that for the first time that day his headache had gone.


	11. Chapter 11

Pandora frowned as they approached Redcliffe. She felt uneasy approaching the stronghold of the mage rebellion and she was not too sure why. First Enchanter Ines had dismissed the rebels, refusing to officially align the remnants of Ostwick's Circle with them: he had only gone to the Conclave to present evidence to the Divine. Ines, the Divine and the evidence had all been lost in that blast. 

“Up ahead, a rift!” Cassandra called, unsheathing her shield and sword.

Pandora heard the reassuring blast of Vivienne casting a barrier around them.

“Cassandra, keep as many of those demons off me as you can, Vivienne ensure our barriers remain and Varric-“

“Hit as many of the fuckers as you can.” He chuckled, patting Bianca. “I get it Herald.”

She nodded, her own storm staff in her right hand as her left glowed green. She grimaced from the tingling pain which surged through her hand. She brought her hands close together, releasing a surge of lightning forth, paralysing a pair of demons as they advanced upon them. 

She neared the rift, attempting to get close enough to disrupt it and weaken the demons which had emerged from it. 

Pandora jumped over a rock and ran forwards, passing through a green circle. As she passed through it she gasped, noticing time slow down, her run turning into a slow jog. She stumbled out of the circle, falling to the floor managing to return to her feet with a cunning roll. She turned back to look at the circle and frowned.

She could make out some images in the circle, glowing green on the floor, as a horde of dark spawn seemed to meander towards the village. But that was impossible, the Blight had been 10 years ago.

“Time… magic?” She shook her head, thinking it was impossible and planting her feet firmly on the floor, lifting her glowing hand to the rift. It reacted, and she flexed her hand. The rift sealed and slowly the green circles vanished.

“Those rifts, did they manipulate time?” Cassandra neared, sheathing her weapons.

“It seems so.” Vivienne replied, frowning. "That kind of magic is powerful and dangerous."

“I don’t like this.” Pan looked around at her friends. “Be on your guard. Something does not seem right.”

When they entered it was clear that they were not expected, despite the fact they had met the Grand Enchanter in Val Royeaux. They were directed to the Tavern by a mage named Lysas to meet Fiona even though she was no longer in charge, which did not ease Pans suspicions. They caught a few murmurs of gossip as they passed through the town, mostly about apostates and templar waging war beyond the security of the castle and town.

Pan looked around in awe at the village. It had survived the Blight, she had been 15 years of age, just taken her Harrowing earlier than most when the Fifth Blight came to Ferelden. She along with many others in the Circle had read the update reports from the country across the sea. This was where the Hero of Ferelden had fought against demons and darkspawn emerging from the castle, saving the Arl’s son despite everything. Tabris had been an inspiration to the young Pandora, a city elf who had proved that against al odds she could be a hero. It gave the bastard noble in the circle hope, that she could thrive as a mage. 

The village was vibrant with colour and life: orange hues in the leaves and murals on the buildings. A few seemed to be boarded up or in disrepair, but it certainly contested her initial idea of the village- desolate and empty despite the many years that had passed. 

She walked up the stone stairs to the Tavern, her hand passed pushing the door open.

“What do you expect to find in there?” Cassandra asked from behind her.

“I-… Do not know. I am worried about what is going on here, perhaps afraid that people I may have once known well could be entangled in it.” She bit her lip.

“It still is not too late, to change your mind.”

Pandora shook her head. “We have come this far, I need to figure out what is going on. Especially if time magic is involved.”

She pushed open the door, into the dim Tavern. The light was blocked as the door creaked shut behind them, and Pan felt her heart race a little. The tavern in Haven was much lighter and easier to breath in, but this place seemed to suffocate and choke. She swallowed, steeling herself. She had to push on.

“Welcome, Agents of the Inquisition.”

Pan turned to see the dark haired elf she had met in Val Royeaux. She nodded, and offered a smile. Fiona scanned the party and fixed her eyes on Vivienne.

“First Enchanter Vivienne.” She nodded in acknowledgement.

“My dear Fiona! It has been so long since we last spoke. You look dreadful! Are you sleeping well?”

“What has brought you to Redcliffe?”

“We met in Val Royeaux, and you invited me here.”

Fiona’s brow creased, in confusion and concern. “Why, I have not been to the Val Royeaux since before the Conclave.”

Pan felt her heart drop. “What is going on here?”

“I do not knot know. Whatever or whoever brought you here… the situation has changed. The free mages have already… pledged themselves to the service of the Tevinter Imperium.”

“Fiona dear, your dementia is showing.”

“Tevinter?” Pan felt her jaw drop in shock.

“As one indentured to a Magister, I no longer have the authority to negotiate with you.”

“An alliance with Tevinter is a terrible mistake.” Pan almost laughed in exasperation, eyes wide.

“We had no choice, we are loosing this war and I needed to save as many as I could.”

Pan exchanged glances with the other members of her party, and then turned back to look at Fiona. She looked on edge and even scared. It occurred to Pandora, that the alliance with Tevinter was her last resort, something that clearly she did not want nor enjoy having done.

“Welcome my friends. I apologise for not greeting your earlier.”

Pandora turned to watch as a man dressed in red robes from the Imperium approach them, his voice dripping with false pleasantries. It made her shudder.

“Agents of the Inquisition, allow me to introduce Magister Alexius Gereon.”

“The southern mages are under my command now. And you are the survivor yes? The one from the fade? Interesting.”

“My name is Pandora Trevelyan, Junior Enchanter from the Circle at Ostwick and now a member of the Inquisition. I struggle to understand why your first observation should be about the Conclave.”

She narrowed her eyes, feeling on edge around the Magister. Cassandra raised an eyebrow at her resolve and Vivienne smirked.

“Why, merely an observation. You will struggle to find anyone who is not interested in such a past.”

“I am here to negotiate mages for the Inquisition. But I am troubled. I do not understand when you were able to ally with the rebel mages.”

“When the conclave was destroyed these poor souls faced the brutality of the Templars who rushed to destroyed them. It was just through divine providence which led me to them when I did.”

“It certainly… was very timely.” Fiona spoke out.

Pan narrowed her eyes. What she had seen at the gates and the feeling she had been getting around the village. Surely not? Time magic did not exist. 

“I am here to get mages to close the breach.”

“Right to business.”

He motioned for her to sit. He sat down at an empty table. Pandora still felt uneasy, and disliked the way he looked at her. Granted not like most men, who seemed to ogle at her beauty, but he still observed her in a way which was unsettling. Almost like a research specimen or a something to toy with, until his true intentions came about. It reminded her of him.

“Felix would send for a scribe please. Pardon my manners, my son Felix, my friends. I am not surprised you are here, closing the breach is not a feet many could even attempt. There is no telling how many mages would be needed for such an endeavour ambitious indeed.”

“Does that mean you are willing to give support?”

“There will have to be…”

Alexius looked up as Felix neared and Pan follow this gaze. He looked pale, and seemed to stumble towards them, his hand outstretched. Pandora felt her heart beat faster, realising that he was about to fall. She jumped from her chair with her lightning fast reflexes. She caught him as he fell to the floor, she managed to break his fall. But as he fell, she felt something slip into her hand. He looked at her and she remained silent.

“I am so sorry my Lady.”

“Felix are you alright?”

“I am fine father.”

“Come we will get you some powders. Sorry my friends we will continue this some othertime. I will send word to conclude this at a later date.”

They left the tavern and Pan looked down at her hand. A small note had been placed there. She frowned and walked over to the others, unfolding the paper.

“Come to the Chantry. You are in great danger.” She looked up.

“That was odd.” Varric mused, folding his arms. 

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. “That is an understatement.”

“Aligning with Tevinter. Even from Fiona, I did not expect that.” Vivienne muttered, finger going to her cheek in thought.

“I think we should check out the Chantry.” Pan sighed. “This is a lot more complex than I was hoping. I am also worried about the time issues we experienced.”

“Ah, you mean from Fiona and Alexius’ comments my dear?” Vivienne asked.

Pan nodded. “You arrival certainly was timely. I do not like any of this. IF there is something happening with time… that magic is powerful. Perhaps to the same extent as the mark and Breach, which is beneficial for the purpose I want mages for however…”

“It could be involved.” Cassandra finished.

Pan nodded.

“You, Pandora Trevelyan? From Ostwick?”

Pan spun around, confronted by a female mage. She recognised her from the Circle. She was older than Pan, but was beneath her by a few years in the Circle. She had barely managed to pass her Harrowing. She smiled, reassured to see a familiar face.

“Yes, nice to see you Linnea.”

“I am shocked you remember me, You have lost weight.”

Linnea looked her up and down, and Pan shrank a little by her glare. Pandora had been a little less slim in the Circle, she had little chance to do as much expertise as she could now. And her experience afterwards left her little chance to eat or rest. The way Linnea looked at her and frowned...Had she done something to her?

“But the annulment treated you well. Marked by Andraste and part of the Inquisition. You were always the favourite, Lydia hated me but adored you so you rose quickly. Pathetic. Your beauty got you everything.”

“I doubt the annulment treated any of us well.” Pan folded her arms and frowned.

Linnea snorted.

“Are there any otherm embers from the circle here?”

“Not that I know of.”

Pan nodded. She was clearly going to make little progress. So much for a friendly face. “Take care Linnea.”

She massaged her temple and turned on her heel, the light in the tavern making her feel hemmed in. She had to leave. The venom in Linnea’s words cut her deep, they had never been close, but the words cut deep.

****

We have encountered some difficulties in Redcliffe village. The Arl has abandoned the village and it seems as though the mages have aligned with Tevinter. we have received a warning from a potential ally and are investigating the lead. Shall report back as soon as more information is known.

Pandora.

 

The information was valid. We arrived at the Chantry to discover a mage battling a rift. Something odd is happening with the rifts here- it shows us visions of the past and speed or slow down time. Highly unusal. The Herald also seemed to see something shocking to her within one of the time warps near the rift, yet she would not say what. We met a mage named Dorian Pavus, who offered his assistance, along with Alexius’s son Felix. Alexius is the magister who now is in charge of the mages.

Apparently, they are obsessed with the Herald for what she did at the Conclave and are some kind of cult. They call themselves Venatori. We cannot act further until Alexius invites us once more, however I see it as a trap and highly unsafe for the Herald. Yet this seems to have just sparked her concern for the people trapped in the middle of this. We are en route to Haven.

Cassandra.


	12. Chapter 12

“Accept his invitation? It is clearly a trap.” Cullen scowled at them all. He could hardly imagine that they were seriously considering this. “Redcliffe Castle is one of the most heavily fortified castles in Ferelden, we cannot attack it with our forces.”

“There must be another way, some water pipe or hidden tunnel, something.” Pandora leant over the table, frowning down at the place on the map where Redcliffe was.

Cullen shook his head. “Not that I know of.”

She was determined to ally with mages, even after closing two rifts in Redcliffe which worried her. The presence of that many showed a degree of instability in the fade, but even more worrying the way they manipulated time. She closed her eyes. Part of her did not want to do this and saw the Templars as the easier way out. 

She had also seen him in one of the rift circles in the Chantry: he was walking around a ruined Redcliffe, with a breach in the sky, seemingly laughing. The man who haunted her dreams, when she did sleep but also more recently haunted her in flashbacks. Flashbacks that seemed too real. She shuddered and opened her eyes. 

Pan refused to let the mages be ruled by the Tevinter Magister and felt he was connected to something greater than she understand at this moment in time. There was also a potential that she knew people in Redcliffe. She had met Linnea, who had not been particularly pleasant, but she did not want to see Linnea as some slave in the Imperium conscripted to fight when she was not suited.

“There is a way.” Leliana had her hands behind her back, a triumphant smirk on her face. “A tunnel, used for the family only. We can get in some agents through that way. Give the Magister what he desires.”

“That could just work. Hardly big enough for many forces and sending the Herald through the main gate would be the distraction needed.” Cullen nodded. It was a good idea: Leliana was always resourceful. Then he realised what the plan meant, it put her at direct risk. “But it puts the Herald, the only way we have of closing the breach in direct danger.”

He looked up into her purple eyes. “It would be unfair to command you to do such, as you are at risk.”

Pan shook her head and smiled. “It is necessary. I will support from the Agents, and a way to talk once again with this Alexius and find out what he truly wants. Those mages are in danger.”

The door crashed open.

“If you are going after Alexius, count me in. Dorian Pavus, at your service”

Pan turned to see the mage from the Chantry stroll into the room, a satisfied grin on his face. An Inquistion soldier jogged behind, out of breath looking a little panicked.

“I tried to stop him, Ser, but he walked right in.”

Cullen glared at the mage, who smiled at them all back. 

“I welcome the offer for help.” Pandora smiled at Dorian.

“Excellent. Let me know when you are heading off.”

*****

“I feel a little uneasy about sending you back to that place, my dear. So I have decided to teach you one of my favourite ice spells.”

Vivienne stood opposite Pandora, shifting herself to balance upon the lake of ice outside of Haven. The wind swirled around her, making her white robes flap slightly. Pan smiled and nodded.

“Now, ice magic is different from storm magic in many different ways, not just elemental. That is important to remember, darling.”  
Vivienne stood with her head held high, the sun light peeling behind her hat, making her appear like some celestial being.  
 In comparison Pan felt inferior, which was a welcome change.

“The storm magic you possess, is unlike any other I have seen. It seems to naturally course through you and you embrace it, albeit with some trepidation due to the risks involved. For you ice magic may not be as easy to master: it relies upon a knowledge of the cold.”

Vivienne smiled and rose her hands up to her side.

“I wish to impart my knowledge on you, darling. Watch closely.”

Pan narrowed her eyes, and watched as Vivienne was reduced to a flurry of wind and ice, appearing with a crash next to her. Vivienne looked at Pandora in the eyes, and smiled, as ice crystallised around them.

“That was magnificent.”

“It can render your enemies unless, while you can dash around them, ensuring you are in a safer position.” 

Vivienne stood and strode back to her original position, peering over her shoulder.

Pan tilted her head to the observers who had gathered. Interest had gathered among her friends to watch mages train, a sight rarely afforded to those outside the circles. Dorian had also joined the crowd, as he was setting out back to Redcliffe with them. Iron Bull, Varric and the new recruit Blackwall, who they had found upon Leliana’s request upon their return from Redcliffe stood on the shore, watching intently. 

Sera was also among them, but less close. Pandora knew she held a fear of magic, but Sera was intrigued. She knew that Pandora Trevelyan was not a bad mage or person, and she had afforded time and effort to her friends. Pan had given time to investigate something for Red Jenny: Sera knew the others would have just cast her request aside, but Pan did not. She cared for the common people, meaning Sera held an amount of respect for her. 

Stood nearer, were two ex Templar that Vivienne had requested to oversee the training. They stood slightly to attention, hands ready on their weapons and looking for signs of possession. Pandora understood the necessity, but even back in the Circle she sometimes felt a little uneasy with them around.

“Try it darling. Show me what Lydia saw in you.”

Pandora smirked, rising to the challenge. She raised her arms, and shut her eyes, feeling the cold and tapping into the magic within her, her knowledge which she had just observed but also read. She opened her eyes.

*****

“Ser.” Cullen looked up to a recruit at the mouth of his tent, Eduard next to him. “Reports of mages on the ice lake. I thought you might want to investigate.”

“What do you mean?” He frowned, moving in quick strides to exit the tent. He was worried that the new mage from Tevinter could not be trusted, and perhaps was part of an infiltration plan. Even though the Herald seemed to trust him, Cullen still felt uneasy. Though he had felt the same about her when she emerged from the breach.

“Apparently Madame Vivienne is teaching my sister a thing or two about ice magic.” Eduard chuckled. 

“I am aware.” Cullen scowled, stopping in his tracks, uncertain why they were telling him. “Madame Vivienne requested permission from me personally.”

“However, some of the people in Haven express concern, wanting more than the ex Templar placed there watching.” Eduard folded his arms. “It seems a fair crowd is also starting to gather, to watch the mighty herald display her skills.”

Cullen sighed, and rubbed the back of his neck. He was out of the tent now. “Let us go then.”

They strolled down the verge to the ice lake. Cullen was surprised by the number of people who had gathered, a few from the village including Adan and the blacksmith Harrit stood watching, taking a chance to rest from their duties. Cullen knew they had both taken a liking the Herald, who had helped them with certain errands and requests.

They neared Iron Bull, Varric the warden and the Tevinter mage, who had interrupted the War Council. Cullen also made out Sera, watching from the floor, her legs up by her face, almost not noticeable. 

“Curly and Charming, nice to join us.” Varric smiled.

Iron Bull flashed a smile. “We are watching the Boss work her stuff. Joining us?”

Cullen folded his arms, lip curling into a smile. “Merely here to ensure the crowd does not get injured.”

“I must say I am impressed with the get up with this Inquisition.”

Cullen looked to the dark Tevinter mage, who smirked sat on a barrel. But a crash of ice magic caught their attention, both Eduard and Cullen reacted with hands to their weapons looking over to the two mages on the lake of ice.  
 Pandora had appeared from a flurry of wind and ice next to Vivienne, panting slightly.

“Excellent. Do it again, darling.”

The crash thundered once more, and Cullen watched as the flurry spun around Vivienne in a circle until appearing once more by her side.

“Again.”

“I see Templar habits die hard.” Dorian mused.

“We are here to protect, and Pan is my sister. I would never act unless it was necessary and I would take every step possible to keep my sister unharmed.” Eduard rose his shoulders, defensively. 

“Including cutting her down as the abomination takes over?” Dorian stressed the word abomination saying it with a flourish. 

“Stop talking scary magic talk. Some people don’t get it.” Sera grunted from the floor.

“Don’t you think of fairest as your friend? You surely can not be scared of magic if you think that.” Varric mused.

Sera grunted and drew her legs further up.

“Good, my dear.” Vivienne nodded and Pan stood tall once more, catching her breath. “But I think you may need some practice on a moving target. Ah, Commander? Second in Command? Iron Bull?”

Eduard nudged Cullen. “The Madame is calling.”

“Lets give the boss a run for her money.” Bull chuckled.

The three warriors walked out across the lake, passing the two ex templar stood near as guard. Cullen nodded at them, and they returned the nod.

“I would like you to flank her, as though this were a real battle situation. Do not be afraid to use the full force of your abilities. This is incredibly like your recruit training, Commander.” Vivienne looked at them fiercely. “She will try to disarm you, do your best not to let her dears. We need to challenge her. I will cast a ward around you, if you are disarmed or the ward breaks you are to yield.”

The three placed themselves around the storm mage, weapons at the ready. Cullen was uncertain exactly how he had let himself get dragged into this situation, but he supposed it was better than been stuck to the reports. Pan stood in the middle, her staff attached to her back. She was under instructions to not use any other magic than the one Vivienne had taught her. 

“Begin.”

As Vivienne spoke protective wards shot up around each of them, a caution. 

Iron Bull charged first, his war cry ringing out. She had little time to react, summoning the whirlwind of ice to crack passed him in an arch appearing with a slight jog due to the ice behind. Iron Bull had anticipated that move, and to Pandoras surprise he charged once more towards her weapon ready. 

She grabbed the dagger in the back of her belt and threw it with rogue like precision towards Bull. He dodged, to avoid the spinning metal, ending his charge. Pan once again used the ice form and spun round him, catching the dagger perfectly mid air and then charging at his back. She jumped up onto his shoulders and started to tickle him.

Bull roared out in laughter, bending to his knees his weapon falling to the floor.

“I yield small Boss!”

“Hmph. Unorthodox methods.” Vivienne tutted.

“I disarmed him! And I cannot use any other magic.” Pan called out, stood over the laughing Qunari.

Vivienne nodded in acknowledgment.

“Great, my sister is going to tickle me to yield.” Eduard grumbled. 

“Well, do not stop there.” Vivienne called out as Iron Bull walked back to the shoreline, still laughing.

“If I cannot use other forms of magic can I at least get a sword?”

“Can you even use a sword?” Eduard chuckled.

“No. But I am sure it isn’t too hard.” Pan smirked.

Vivienne motioned her head and the ex Templar kicked one of the spare weapons next to them across the floor of the ice lake. It span towards Pan, coming to a stop with a gleam of metal.

“Careful to hold it the right way around.”

Pan picked it up, appearing slightly uneasy with it.

“Begin.”

The wards went back around them. Cullen watched closely, as Eduard charged, two handed sword above his head. As he neared Pandoras stance changed: she went from looking uneasy, to twirling the sword around and standing with almost perfect poise and stance, sword ready. She met the swooping of Eduard's blade, which surprised him and sparred his second slash.

“How-?”

“Beginners luck?” She flashed a smile, before the crashing sound of the ice form rang out, bringing her swooping around. 

Eduard swung down and once again she sparred it, although the force of his attack dented the ward with a slight crack. With an expert spin of her sword, Eduard lost his grip and his own sword went flying through the air, landing with a crack into the ice lake.

“Hey, that was not fair.” Eduard huffed, walking over to retrieve his sword with a tug. “How on earth does a Circle mage learn to use weapons like that? I mean I remember playing with you with wooden swords but that was something else?”

Pandora remained silent and shuffled on the lake, uncomfortably. Eduard let out a laugh.

“Next time it won’t be that easy sister.”

She looked up at him and he winked at her. She smiled.

Vivienne placed a finger to her temple. She had hoped that they would try and attack all at once. That would have been a better test of her abilities. Next time she would do it herself, do the job properly. Yet she was impressed by the magical abilities of the young mage, no wonder she had taken the Harrowing so young and risen to Enchanter only a few years later.

“Commander.” Vivienne nodded to Cullen. “Begin.”

Pan turned her attention to Cullen, who stood slightly further away, his shield and sword ready. She had not seen him fight since the Temple, but she knew he was formidable with plenty of experience. So was Bull, but she knew he was ticklish, meaning she could disarm his deadly charge. Pan gulped, as Cullen readied his sword and shield. She remembered what Bull had told her when she had spoken with him earlier, how he knew he was a Templar just form the way he angled his shield. She narrowed her eyes, noting that he did indeed angle it downwards away from him.

She waited, as he began to circle and she gulped. She was going to have to make the first move, he was waiting. She ran forwards and she activated her fade step ability to circle around him, but he spun as she circled knowing the signs to watch out for: arms outstretched and the look of concentration. Instead of curling the sword upon her, he bashed her away with the shield. Pan stumbled back, and felt a crack in the barrier Vivienne had cast. Without it she was sure it would have concussed her. She steadied herself.

Cullen swung forwards with a warrior charge, so fast that Pan only just managed to dodged it with a rogue like roll on the ice. The ice propelled her further from the Commander, which was what she wanted. She readied herself once more, wondering how to proceed. He neared, shield in front of him. She could once again circle him with the fade step to try and get behind him, but she realised he knew when she was going to do that. 

She bit her lip in thought, tapping her foot. Her eyes fixed to the shield.

She breathed, and ran forwards fade stepping once more, but she did not falter. She aimed for the shield. Cullen's eyes widened in shock as she charged towards him: what could she be thinking? She was no warrior. He bought his sword around in a defensive move, but she was too fast and she had crashed into him.

Both swords went flying through the air, as they landed in a heap on the ice lake.

“What in the makers name was that?” Cullen gasped from the floor, feeling the small mage on top of him.

“I am so sorry!” He heard her cry out. “I was meaning to push you back- not to crash into you like this.”

Pan was horrified. She had hurtled straight into him with tremendous force, knocking them both over. Her head had hit his metal chest plate and hurt a little.

Cullen began to laugh.

“You came charging towards me… heavens I had no idea what you were doing. You really surprise me Herald.”

Pan chuckled a little, glad that he wasn’t injured or angry. She rubbed her head. Then her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed red realising that she was straddling him.

As Cullen laughed, he felt her legs around him and her on top of him. Then he looked up and saw how close she was, very close. Her purple eyes bore into him, and as they realised they both looked away.

“Ahem, excuse me Commander.” She jumped off him and he moved back to his feet.

“And that, friends, is the Commander and Herald flirting.” Eduard folded his arms, talking to those around him,

“That is flirting?” Dorian replied exasperated. 

“All blushes and eyes, and unspoken things.” Sera muttered and then laughed. “Yurgh!”

“We almost had a storybook romantic moment.” Varric sighed.

“Haha.” Iron Bull was still laughing at the tickling.

“Sadly, it seems she did not inherit my charms.” Eduard grinned and looked to Dorian.

“Charms? Oh I had not noticed, but you must be charming I keep hearing the ladies talk about.” Dorian smirked.

Eduard winked. “You will notice soon enough.”

“Excellent work, darling. You really mastered fade step quicker than I thought.” Vivienne approached the Commander and Herald, sensing that someone needed to break the awkwardness. “Hopefully it will see you well in Redcliffe.”

Pan nodded. “Thank you Vivienne.”

“Anyway, I must return indoors. Despite my love for ice magic, it is rather cold for me out here. Good luck, dear.”

Vivienne wandered back to Haven and slowly everyone else did too.

Pan turned to Cullen and smiled.

“Thank you for helping Commander.”

Cullen rubbed his neck.

“No need to thank me. It was useful seeing mage training again, to remind of what to expect when you recruit the mages.”

Pandora nodded as they walked back towards Haven.

“I know you wanted me to side with the Templar… And I did consider your advise, as I value all your advise closely. But I felt…”

“I know Herald. You explained to me a few weeks ago, why you believed mages would be the best choice. I understand.”

Pan smiled, relieved. 

“We are leaving for Redcliffe again in the morning and-“

“The plan is dangerous. Yes, it is the best way to get into the castle, but you are put into direct peril. Are you sure you are ok with it?” Cullen turned to her, stopping walking, his copper eyes filled with concern.

“I am aware yes. Yet, I cannot leave the mages as they are. Having a Tevinter magister so close is troubling, but also what I saw in the rifts, my own danger is nothing compare to what all those people face in and around Redcliffe.”

“What did you see?”

“Darkspawn attacking Redcliffe from the blight but also someone I once knew…”

Pan shook her head.

“I have support from Inquisition Agents, not to mention Cassandra, Varric and Dorian will be there.”

“Do you trust this new mage?” Cullen folded his arms, looking down at the small mage. “He could be assisting his old mentor.”

“I- I hope he can be trusted. But in this current situation, all we can have is hope. Hope that perhaps it is not as bad as we think, hope that it will work.”

Pan smiled.

“You are-“ Cullen stopped himself. 

He could not tell her. He could not tell her that he thought she was an inspiration, that her smile brightened so many peoples day including his own, that he enjoyed reading her letters and often waited for them eager to read her updates and thoughts on missions. This was just a crush- he had had them before, once during training and then in Ferelden. Neither had progressed farther than that. He had the Inquisition now to Command.

“-very thoughtful to others.”

“Pan nice work.” Eduard jogged up to them, beaming. “But seriously, where did you learn to fight with a sword like that?”

“When I left the circle. A mage needs to defend themselves with things other than magic.”

“I do not buy it.” Eduard narrowed his eyes.

“So, where are my charmingly rustic quarters to be for the night then?” Dorian also joined them, flashing the Commander a grin. Cullen merely nodded.

“I will show you Dorian.” Pan smiled.

“Good day, Commander. See you later Eduard. Thank you both.”

The two mages walked off, up the hill and back towards Haven.

“You are funny Commander.”

“What? Why?” Cullen narrowed his eyes.

Eduard grinned and shrugged. 

“No particular reason.”


	13. Chapter 13

Pandora turned her head behind her, to check on her companions. Dorian sensed her concern and followed her gaze. They had rescued Cassandra and Varric from the dungeons, but they had also found someone else saving her from whatever grim torture lay ahead. She followed closely behind, a scowl creased on her forehead.

Leliana had aged drastically in the short time between the real past they had been taken from to the current present, some misery filled future, where the Inquisition had failed and chaos reigned unchallenged. In this future, they had failed.

She was concerned for her friend, who looked so fragile and drained, sallow skin and wrinkled face. She had never heard Leliana utter a bad word about mages, until they rescued her from the torture chamber. She unleashed a torrent of curses upon Dorian and blamed mages for everything that had happened. Pan shuddered. They had only seen inside the castle so far and that had been enough. Grand Enchanter Fiona had Red Lyrium growing from her, slowly killing her. Pan wondered how badly wrong it must have gone.

She thought to what had happened to bring them here: the agents had sneaked into the castle taking out the Venatori guards leaving Alexius almost powerless as she questioned him and his intentions. Then it was confusion. He brought forth the amulet, it spun in his hand and Dorian cried out, knocking it away opening a portal to the past, dragging only her and him through. She hoped Cassandra, Varric and the others were ok at the other end. She gathered that in this future, she never returned from the time warp.

“Remember.” Dorian spoke up. “This does not have to be the future; we can stop this.”

Pan nodded. “Yes I am aware. It… it is just a lot to take in. That in this future we failed, and so many people were hurt.”

She turned back to face the front. They ascended some steps to the higher levels of the castle, in search for Alexius, the Tevinter who could bend time to his will. She clenched her fist.

“I shall not let this future happen. We have to have hope. Even in the darkest times, there will always be hope as long as someone is willing to do what is right and stand up.”

Dorian inclined his head.

“I admire your courage and resolve.”

He had only known the small storm mage for a short while, but Dorian felt himself warming quickly to her. He had seen her close the rifts with her glowing left hand, powerful magic. He looked into her eyes, gleaming purple even in the darkness of the stairwell they shone with hope and possibility. 

They reached the top of the stairs and stepped into the dim light of the outside. Pan and Dorian gasped. She looked to the sky, the breach had spread, or a new one had appeared here. And it was as though it was pulling parts of the castle and surrounding area towards it.

In the sky segments of castle wall floated, grand statues from the town, semi collapsed also hung in the air. The wind whipped around them, fluttering her robe about her and her hair. She tucked as many loose strands as she could behind her ear.

“This is…” Pandora shook her head.

“The Elder One and Alexius’ doing.” Varric grumbled.

Pan then surveyed the courtyard, plants decaying, dying or dead and ruined walls of the castle. The glowing red of Red Lyrium deposits, scattered around. She walked up the stairs, taking in the scene and moving towards a large crystal. What had happened here and why was there so much Red Lyrium?

Pan neared one, but not stepping too close. The crystal formed in a way which meant she could not see herself reflected in the deposit, she was glad as she disliked mirrors. Instead reflecting back were her companions. She could hear the magic within the Lyrium; it was almost singing in a strange humming melody. She shuddered; feeling its power around the crystal and how deadly it was. Such power could warp people into something monstrous. 

A crack caught her attention. She neared a little more, watching the hair line fracture spread through the crystal.

“It is breaking.” She edged nearer, frowning.

“Herald! Move!” Cassandra barked from behind her, reaching out to grab her away.

But she was too late.

Pans’ eyes widened in shock as the crystal slowly broke, fragments spreading outwards. She put up a hand to shield her face, feeling little bits of the crystal graze her skin and embed into her gloves. She was thrown back by an incredible force, the sound of a battle cry rang in her ears.

She fell to the floor, but used the momentum to roll herself into a crouching position, her staff in her right hand. She looked ahead, her companions readying themselves. Something or someone had emerged from the Lyrium; they had been tainted by it, red lyrium sprouting from them in different places. All she could make out was a rage filled red glow from their eyes, before Dorian twirled his staff with fire.

She did not have time to focus on the Lyrium monster, as demons began to appear around them, along with soldiers from the castle. Her body crackled with lightning as she moved her staff, shocking a few who had gotten too near Varric. Three approached Pan, so she twirled her staff around so the blade was facing forward and she bought it down upon one of the demons with terrific force, while ducking to avoid the clawed strike from another.

As her blade sunk into the demon, she ran into it, climbing up its body and jumping off, bringing her staff with her as it shone purple with the storm magic. She raised it above her head and brought it down with a loud crackle of lightning onto the demon. She only had one more to deal with, she spun readying herself, but she heard the fire of a crossbow.

“I owe you.” Varric smirked at her.

She nodded, glad that even here Varric could remain himself.

“Plus, the seeker needs help.”

Pan turned to see Cassandra fighting the red lyrium monster, her eyes wide in horror. Pan ran forwards and cried out as Cassandra was flung back, her body crumpling as she hit the wall. She gasped, turning back to face the monster. It was upon her.

“C-Commander?”

It was Cullen. Or it was what was left of the Commander of the Inquisition. He had been tainted by the Red Lyrium, his eyes instead of the peaceful copper were burning red. His left arm had grown grotesquely out of proportion to the rest of him, made up of the red lyrium crystals. His veins in seemed to glow red and a red vapour seemed to encircle him.

He roared and swung the sword down on her; she dodged it but was shocked by the speed of the next blow which came straight after her first dodge. This time she jumped, spinning over him and landed with grace behind him. But then his arm swung around, hitting her in the chest, sending her across the floor. She looked for Varric and Dorian, who were busy with other demons and then to Cassandra who was out by the wall. Leliana jumped through the air, yelling with rage her arrows ready, but then another demon came from nowhere pulling her from the air.

Pan scrambled back as best as she could, mildly winded, looking up into the eyes of the Commander. Despite their red glow, they were devoid of any emotion or recollection.

The storm built within her, preparing to shock him back as he was advancing ever closer. But suddenly it disappeared as a blue light encircled her and the Commander. He had used dispel. She felt the sickness rise in her stomach from having one of her main line of defences taken away from her. 

Despite everything, the feeling of powerlessness that dispel left her made her feel weak and useless. It reminded her of when the Circle fell. She continued to scramble backwards from him, urging her magic to come back to no avail. Her heart beat faster from panic.

He swung his arm down. Pan breathed in deeply, shutting her eyes for a moment. He was too strong. Until she remembered her training the previous day; she had meant to use his shield to propel her up and stop his attack, this time she had to succeed. She opened them, and they gleamed in that purple hue. She had hope.

She pushed herself forwards into the Commander. He let out a cry of shock, as she bowled into him. She let out a cry from the sting of the Red Lyrium and looked into his eyes, the red burning into her. She still felt the terror in her, but she had to have hope. She kicked off his shield, just managing to scramble onto it, sending her flying into the air and him stumbling back. She felt her magic ebb back into her and she let out a huge stream of lightning bolts down onto the Red Commander below.

She landed back onto the floor, and walked over to the heap of Commander. Varric was knelt next to Cassandra bringing her round. Pan was joined by Leliana and Dorian. She looked down at him, the sparks flying around his body, keeping him paralysed for the time being. He stared into her eyes; his own beginning to show recognition.

Cullen let out a groan.

“Leliana?”

“Commander…” She folded her arms. “What happened?”

“I-…” Cullen buried his head into his hands, unable to look at them. “They captured me. I should have died in the attack on Redcliffe, but I did not. They took me, tortured me, and slowly began to feed me Red Lyrium. But I refused to cooperate with them. I felt so powerless, but it gave me strength again, but turned me into this… thing. The Elder One he has ways to control you…”

Pan looked at him and felt her heart fracture. He looked so lost and broken, his eyes darting around confused, a used puppet for the wrong side. She knew what it was like.

“We have to get them out of here.” Leliana tilted her head to Pan and Dorian. “They travelled in time and they can stop this ever happening in their future.”

“Yes, we certainly do not want this for our future.” Dorian looked around him. “Not very pleasant.”

Cullen growled his words full of hate. “You mages started this chaos.”

Pan felt her heartbeat faster, the hatred in his voice was like poison. Was this the man he used to be, before the Inquisition? Had the events of a future she so wanted to stop, turned him back into the man he was trying so hard in her present to not be? She had experienced a similar reaction from Leliana, it brought home how badly things must have gone wrong at the castle.

“We can also end it.” Pan heard herself speak out.

Cullen looked into her eyes, the Lyrium in his body making everything vibrate around him. Those eyes; full of hope and determination, the eyes which had enchanted him from the beginning. 

“It is you.”

Cullen stood just as Cassandra neared, throwing a used potion vial to the wall. 

“Commander.” She said curtly.

“Seeker…I … I failed you I am sorry.”

Cassandra shook her head. “You never did. I failed more.”

“But they are controlling me…”

“Controlling you?” Pan narrowed her eyes. “How so?”

Cullen laughed, manically. “Blood Magic.”

She felt nausea rise in her throat and the colour leave her face. She had seen him in the time rifts, could they be linked to this somehow?

“Who?”

Dorian looked to the mage, shocked at the conviction and desperation in that single question.

“I do not know… it is a group of blood mages that much I know for certain.” Cullen shook his head. “But they used the Lyrium on the Templar to make them stronger; and for those that they could not control through those means…They have made their magic more potent, longer serving and running.”

“We need to leave, and quickly.” Pan turned to Dorian. She returned back to the Commander. “I gather you are your own person at this moment?”

He nodded. “Yet I know not for how long. I am not sure how, but somehow you disrupted the control.”

She nodded. It made sense; the way he acted, his hatred for magic once more and the way he fought, how very quickly he could calm down. Depending on the type of mind control, it could render you emotionless, unable to converse without the command from the puppet master, or give you a goal, something to do yet you can still act outside of those bounds, almost as you. Something about the magic in mind control changed people however; left a mark, regressing them into dark corners of their mind. Pan knew that all too well.

“Kill me.” He begged.

Pan’s eyes widened at the request and both Leliana and Cassandra looked to each other.

“Curly…” Varric began moving forward, but Cullen shook his head, tears falling down his cheeks.

“Look at what I have become. I am not under my own control or command. They might send me after you. In fact they will send me after you and then what?! My mind… it cannot fit back. I cannot fight back. Kill me.”

Leliana nodded. “As you wish Commander.”

“W-wait!” Pan cried. “There is a way to break it. There is. You said yourself, I did something to break the control!”

“Not without the Litany of Adralla and that only disrupts casting of the spells, we do not know who is casting the spells or where from.” Dorian added, frowning at her. “You should know that from your studies. You have only temporarily stopped the control of the mind. Plus he is not from our original time. They will be left here anyway.”

“It must happen. Please.” He begged. For a moment Pan swore she could see the copper colour return, before the redness glowed once more.

Leliana nodded and drew a dagger.

“Pandora… I tried to save you. I went back for you, when I received the reports about what happened in the Castle, you stepped into the rift and did not return.” Cullen looked to her. “I never got to tell you, that truly you are an inspiration. If anyone can stop this, I know it is you. From the first moment I saw you I-“

He shook his head. 

“Goodbye. Maker watch over you.”

“NO!” She screamed. He had called her by her first name. But Cassandra grunted, grabbed her around the waist, lifting her from the ground and away. Varric and Dorian turned to follow.

Pandora yelled, kicked and cried; her magic even sparked, but Cassandra ignored her and kept walking until they had left the courtyard. The last thing she saw of the Red Lyrium Commander, was Leliana stood before him, her blade coming down. She screamed out to them, but then the door to the courtyard shut.

*****   

They stumbled from the rift, as it snapped shut behind them. Pandora regained her balance and looked around, tears blurring her eyes. She had seen a terrible future: her final vision was Varrics’ dead body thrown into the throne room as the demons broke through, and Leliana sacrificing her life to give them enough time.

“Pandora!” Cassandra stepped forward, concern on her face and Varric remained silent behind him.

She looked to them. They were alive.

A movement to her left caught her attention as Alexius fell to his knees, his plan failed. A frowned etched her face and she strode forward to him. Her right hand shook with anger and restraint, she wanted to strike him for everything she had seen, everything his actions had caused. 

“Your plan failed Alexius. How forgiving is your Elder One?” She all but snarled at him, her eyes filled with malice.

Cassandra and Varric watched shocked, they had never seen the Herald angry.

She turned, not wishing to spend longer near him, letting the soldiers take him instead.

“Well I am glad that is over with.” Dorian said cheerfully.

As he spoke the doors opened, and soldiers marched in.

“Or not.”

“Grand Enchanter Fiona.”

Queen Anora strode through the throne room, her cheeks a pale red and blonde hair tied back.

“When I granted your mages sanctuary I thought it was understood that it would not force my people from their homes. I am rescinding my offer of sanctuary, your people are to leave Ferelden at once.”

“But we have hundreds who need our protection, where will we go?”

“Come to the Inquisition.” Pandora turned from her anger for a moment. “I can offer you a full alliance.”

“We will talk about this later.” Cassandra grumbled.

“So be it.” Queen Anora nodded, casting Pandora an inquisitive look. “Get out of my kingdom.”

She turned and left, as quickly as she came.

“Exactly how many do you have?” Pan turned to Fiona.

“A couple of hundred, perhaps more.” Fiona cast her eyes around. “I should never have made the arrangement with Tevinter, I-“

“What is done is done.” Pan snapped back. All she could see was Varric’s lifeless body, Leliana’s face as the demon killed her and the Commander as the doors shut. 

Pandora turned and strode away. She walked through the throne room, her right hand was still shaking. She looked down.

Her purple eyes widened. Her fingers, were claws an abomination. She gulped and blinked slowly, shaking her hand. She opened her eyes once more. She flipped her hand over and over, looking at the light brown colour and her fingernails. Just her imagination.

“You can’t escape my, little noble.”

She ignored his voice whisper in her ear. 

Pandora pushed open the doors of the throne room, into the light.


	14. Chapter 14

"Herald?"

Cullen rasped his knuckles against the door of the wooden cabin, his breath steaming in the cold air. They had returned from Redcliffe. He had read the debrief, the terrifying future which she had seen. He had noticed the circles appear beneath her eyes, yet she remained as hopeful as ever. Still smiling. Still listening to everyone.

"Commander." A soldier saluted to him. "The Herald of Andraste left her cabin only a few moments ago, making for the woods Ser."

Cullen nodded to the man and strode away. He moved through the gates into the training fields, the recruits busy organising the weapons needed for their training that day. He spotted Iron Bull, who grinned widely.

"Boss went that way." He nodded his head towards the cabin in the woods.

"Thank you Bull."

Snow fell form the sky gently, landing in flakes on his hair and skin. A little away from camp, he could smell ozone in the air and hear the crackle of lightning. He rounded the corner and saw her. Ebony black haired piled on her head, showing the nape of her neck a light brown against the snow. She had one arm outstretched aimed at a tree, the other with her staff behind her. She twirled it with ease and let out a cry as hundreds of balls of purple lightning descending towards the already charred tree.

As Cullen neared she turned her head slightly, acknowledging that she had sensed him nearing. She righted herself, standing tall, or at least as tall as her small frame would allow, and secured the staff to her back.

"Herald, I am sorry to interrupt."

She was breathed heavily, swirling in the cold air before her. Her purple eyes shone out, not a hint of tiredness in them, despite the dark circles gathering beneath her eyes.

"No need to apologise, Commander." She steadied her breath and smiled. "Is there a problem?"

"Why ever would there be a problem?"

"I meant that, you have come to seek me out. Which usually means something needs my attention." She smiled once again.

Cullens heart sank. Had he ever sought her out, actively, to converse about anything which was not related to the Inquisition? 

"Ah, yes. Well, Madame de Fer requested that I train some troops to assist in Templar duties. I thought it best to bring this to your immediate attention, due to your affliation with the mages."

Pan nodded.

"I am aware of what is needed. Yet, even though I offered the mages an alliance, I do not agree with the rebellion nor the notion of banishing circles all together."

"Indeed. I never meant to insinuate otherwise." Cullen folded his arms. "I am surprised that yourself and Madame de Fer have such conservative views. Yet I suppose that is to be expected from the two youngest mages in Ostwick history."

"Oh you knew about that?"

Cullen shrugged and smiled. "Leliana knew about it."

"Despite my seemingly conservative views, I believe that there must be change. No question. But to forget the potential dangers of magic could be deadly... As Redcliffe proved."

Cullen ran his fingers through his hair, feeling the snow dampen it. She did not seem her normal self. In fact since she had returned from Redcliffe she had barely rested. he knew that, from reports of her wandering around checking up on people. Making sure the mages were happy, or as happy as they could be. Speaking to ex Templar to reassure. And then spending her time practicing in the open.

"I do not mean to pry Herald. I make it my business to know the goings on in Haven and ensure the safety and morale of our people. I have noticed since your return from Redcliffe that you seem a little more terse. Is everything alright?"

He was shocked as she began to laugh.

"Alright?" She folded her arms and stared at the charred tree. "I was flung forwards in time. Despite the fact I thought I knew enough about magic it seems that this changes everyday- time travel should not be possible. But it was. And in that future, we failed. I saw Leliana die before my eyes, I saw Varric die before my eyes and I saw you..."

Cullen watched her as she closed her eyes and shook her head. 

"You saw me, as a controlled monster."

She nodded and then she looked up.

"I can not let that future happen Cullen."

He stepped towards her.

"Yet you do not need to exhaust yourself in order to do so."

"I need to practice. I am closing the Breach within the next day or so. I must be prepared."

"Pandora, I-" Cullen moved forwards, reaching an arm out. It hovered between them for a moment before he lowered it. "If there is anything I can do to help you. Anything you need, please ask."

She smiled. "Thank you Commander."

He nodded and turned walking away.

She watched him leave, his fur collared back disapearing in the falling snow and trees, back towards Haven.

"Why aren't you telling them?"

His voice whispered. She turned her head and scowled at him, leaning against the tree, arms folded. His smirk piercing her.

"You know you should tell them about it, that I might be linked. But you do not."

"I don't need to answer to a vision." Pan frowned.

He pushed from the tree and sauntered towards her.

"It is getting harder for you now. Especially since you will leave them as soon as you close the Breach in the sky." 

He smiled and faded.

Pan laughed with disbelief and sadness. She was going to leave. She had to. She could not let him get near any of them and she needed to make sure he was gone.

 

*****

Pandora and Dorian sat on the wooden logs, over looking the frozen lake outside Haven. He had lit a dim fire with his fire magic, and it cracked calmly keeping them warm in the twilight climate. The sun was disappearing behind the hill in the distance, casting a pinkish glow across the snowy landscape, the light reflecting in beautiful hues of orange and pinks from the ice lake. Dorian had dragged her from her afternoon of preparations to seal the Breach, demanding that she relax with him with some wine.

In their hands they held warm mugs of steaming spiced wine, occasionally sipping it.

“I have experienced many things.” Pandora mused. “But I think going forwards in time, and seeing what we saw, may be the strangest.”

“Agreed.” Dorian chuckled.

She looked down at the segment of orange floating around in her mug. She was glad that she had let herself be dragged away. She felt more tired than ever. The feelings inside her swirled around her head. She was going to leave Haven, leave her brother, her new friends and the Commander. She sighed and took a sip of wine.

“What was life like in the Circles in Tevinter?” Pandora looked up and peered at him curious. “We have only heard tales of the mages from the Imperium.”

“Ah, the evil magister tales? How we are the spawn of those who went to the Golden City and started the Blights.”

“Something like that yes.”

Dorian sighed. “I was at the Circle of Carastes until I was 9. I was expelled for duelling with another boy and he was seriously injured, albeit he deserved it.”

“What did he do?” She raised an eyebrow. “And was this a magical duel?”

“Indeed, a test of fire and he was poor at magic. He had taken upon himself to make my studies a misery, hiding books from me and tormenting me by burning my clothes, not with magic may I add.”

“That is horrible.”

“Childs play.” Dorian waved it away. “I then moved around never really settling anywhere until my father, in his noble wisdom demanded I was taught at a smaller school in Minthrathous run by the noble and righteous Order of the Ardent. They were strict to Andraste, how I hated all of that, and the fees were extortionate. But the son from House Pavus has to have the best.”

Dorian grumbled.

“I was not well behaved to say the least. But Alexius took a liking to me, and trained me until I became an Enchanter at the Circle of Minthrathous. Life in the Circle is unlike life for you Southern mages I believe. We were free to study almost whatever we wanted, the Templar merely decorative.”

“Even blood magic?”

“Not me, no. Some others… may delve into that area of study, to show off or for some other reason, but I do not agree with Blood magic.” Dorian shook his head in disgust, taking a sip of the spiced wine afterwards.

“I have never known blood magic used in good ways.” Pan murmured swirling it around in her mug. “In what way were you not well behaved?” 

“Ah, well you see I once snuck into a house of ill repute in the Elven Quarter and passed out blind drunk.” Dorian chuckled. “They nearly expelled me and my father nearly had a fit, yet it amused Alexius and he gave me a chance.”

“It must have been hard, helping us to stop him.”

Pan scratched at a finger and frowned. She was unsure how she would take it, if she were Dorian. She loved Lydia dearly and it would have been a struggle to see her fall from grace.

“A little yes.” Dorian admitted. “Felix and I saw what he was turning into; I want to end the thought of Tevinter Magister as some evil magic users, wanting to enslave all of Thedas.”

Dorian sighed and looked up.

“A noble quest.” Pan smiled. “I wish to see that in the future.”

“That would be an ideal world, would it not?” Dorian grinned. “What about you? What are Circles like for you Southern mages, especially as a noble?”

“As a bastard noble, my step mother promised me I would end up in a Chantry, locked away from the world and her. She was disgusted when I showed promise in magic. She locked me in the dungeons for nearly a day until the Templar came.” Pan sighed and looked over the lake at the light, marvelling at its beauty. “Ostwick was unlike other Circles. The mages and Templar almost got on well. I was taken on early by Enchanter Lydia, who saw me through my Harrowing and into the role of Enchanter myself.”

She took a sip of wine.

“Then they came, and cleansed the circle after she was murdered.”

“Ah yes. I have heard a mixture of tales about this event. A disgruntled student or a mysterious assassin.”

“I wish it had been a disgruntled student.” Pan admitted. “You know, she was having a relationship with one of the Templar?”

“Excellent, tales of forbidden love and romance in the Circles, where mages are slaves to the fear of magic.”

Pan flashed a faint smile. “They looked after me well.”

“Better than your noble roots?”

Pan snorted. “I think a lame nug with a taste for human flesh would have cared for a child better than Lady Trevelyan did with me.”

“My father used to force me to balls, to talk to dull ugly women who I had nothing in common with.”

“Oh, I would have dreamed of balls and talking to dull suitors. In fact, I only went to a few balls and even though I was young I was so awkward.”

“The only good thing about them is the food and drinks.”

Pan nodded. “From my youth, I certainly agree with the food part of that statement.”

"Then perhaps we should get you to one now as the exalted Herald of Andraste. Get you some fine wines."

"If that were the only part of balls, please do."

“Back stabbing, fake smiles to people you dislike and they dislike you back, but because they are your fathers’ first cousins second wife’s niece you have to put on airs.”

“That sounds incredibly complex.”

“You know we are related somewhere down the line?”

“Really?”

“Yes. At school we were drilled noble lineage, and when someone said ‘Trevelyan’ the old mnemonics started in my head and as I thought your family name was there.”

“I am only half Trevelyan.” Pandora leaned to him, raising her eyebrows. “Half mysterious Orlesian Bard.”

“Very interesting. Perhaps it was a good thing you never went to many balls, you would be the centre of gossip. Did you ever know your mother?”

“I lived with her when I was a small baby.” Pan frowned. “I recall very little, just a small house in a nameless town. And even that might be a false memory. My father came for me when she died. I believe, the story was never really told to me. I only ever knew from overhearing arguments.”

They were loud. The arguments between her father and step mother rocked the house. Her father had been a gentle man, quiet, keeping to himself but the Lady had a habit of been able to push the wrong buttons, usually in relation to Pan.

“Intriguing. Perhaps your roguish skills are inherited.”

“You noted?”

“Of course, how could I fail to notice the small mage jumping around and spinning?”

Dorian chuckled.

A silence fell between them as they sipped their spiced wine, and peered out to the frozen lake. Their breath swirled in wil-o-wisp swirls before them.

“Whenever I look at the scenery around Haven it reminds me of what I imagined a book to be like.” Pan murmured.

“The Grimoire of the Frozen Wastes?”

Pan turned smiling.

“You have read it?”

“Of course, the libraries in Minrathous contain all the tomes.”

“I love that book.”

“As do I. Well written. It saw me through a few trials.”

“It saw me through my Harrowing.”

The two mages grinned at each other and took a sip of spiced wine.

“What are we going to do when this runs out?” Pan nodded to the jug of it near the dim fire.

“Well, perhaps we should stroll through camp, pretend to be abominations and see how many Templar we can give a heart attack.”

“Naughty.”

“Oh yes I am.”

They laughed as the sun set behind the hill, engulfing Haven in a dim darkness.


	15. Chapter 15

“You did it.”

“You really are the Herald of Andraste.”

Pan smiled and did not correct the praise as people went passed her. Haven was alive with celebration. People were dancing around fires, drinking and making merry. Above them the sky was normal again; void of the faint green glow which had bathed Haven in the evenings. The ominous reminder was gone and Pandora was the one who sealed it.

Adan let out a booming laugh and clapped her on the back.

“Well done. I saw you pull through whatever that mark did to you. I knew you could do it.”

Pan smiled faintly and wrapped her arms around her, protecting her from the cold.

“Thank you Adan. But I would be nowhere without the support from here. I would not even be here without you.”

“Why are you not celebrating?”

Pan frowned at the floor for a moment. In her cabin everything was ready. She had gathered what little she had, a few clothes and a few books. She was waiting for the early hours when the celebrating would die down, and she could make a quiet exit. She had even opened the cage door of her raven, which Leliana had given her after Pan had managed to capture one to send the urgent message from Redcliffe. She had let the raven flutter away into the air.

“I am just happy watching everyone else.” She answered truthfully.

“Suit yourself!” He smiled once again and left her.

“Adan is a tough shell to crack you know.”

She turned her head to the voice of her brother. He approached hands behind his back and smirking. He was relatively lightly dressed, not as much armour as usual.

Pandora shrugged. “Your charms don’t always work.”

He nudged her and she smiled.

The siblings stood, watching over Haven from the tents near the chantry, the wind rustling through their hair and clothing.

“I always like to imagine.” Pan turned to listen to Eduard, who stood with his chin tilted up into the air, eyes closed. “That a gush of wind can bring change, blow away the bad and bring about the good. I thought that when I was fighting the demons near the Temple, and then you arrived again. Finally back into my life after so long.”

Pan did not say anything, but she listened.

“When I found out it was you, I was worried. Worried that as a mage you might hate me just because I was a Templar. Worried that because it had been so long it would not be like it used to be when we were children. Or that you would hate me because of my mother. I don’t know.”

He turned and looked at her smiling.

“I am so happy to have my sister back; have some part of my family back in my life. The good part.”

He winked.

“Anyway, enough of that. Let me get you some wine.”  
“Eduard, I-“

He held up a hand and shook his head. “Nope. No excuses. You need to relax, I have noticed you tense recently. now with the breach gone, perhaps you can just slow down and get the rest you deserve and need.”

He grinned and ran off, towards the Tavern.

It was then that the bells rang out, drowning out the sounds of celebrating and bringing about the sounds of panicked screams.

****

Red Templar were attacking Haven. Cullen stood by the front gates commanding his troops as best he could, while keeping as many of the stray abominations from the main village as possible. He was shocked that he was having to fight fellow Templar; as his sword cut through the red lyrium infused into their bodies he shuddered thinking about how he may have known them in his previous life as a Templar.

They had been warned by a pale boy named Cole. Cullen found him a little odd, he had almost protested as the Herald let him in Haven little questions asked. But he had come to trust her judgment and support it.

Just ahead of him, he caught sight of the Herald. She had charged ahead, with the Tevinter mage, elven archer and Cassandra to secure the trebuchets. He had not seen her fight since the original rift near the Temple of Sacred Ashes, but he had read the reports. Yet they had not prepared him for the sight he saw.

She was brutal. He had come to know her well over the past month in Haven, she was gentle and kind, willing to listen and speak to people in order to help them maintain morale or inspire hope. But the woman he saw fighting now, seemed totally different. She was no ordinary mage, that much had been confirmed long ago. He could finally see it.

A Red Templar advanced upon her, sword raised. She dodged the blow with lightning fast agility, and instead of using her staff to release magic, she twirled it in her hand and brought it down upon the Templar with force. Her left hand gleamed purple in electricity from her magic and she bought her hand ripping down onto the Templar. The Templar seemed to vibrate before tearing apart in her very hands, from the magic used. She then rolled across the floor, skidding next to an unsuspecting solider and began her attack of magic with a flurry.

They disappeared towards the trebuchet. Eduard fought alongside Cullen, his face gleaming with sweat to keep the Templar and soldiers who had ambled forwards ahead of the main force away from the gates. Cullen ran over to a group of wounded nearby.

“Get inside the gates!”

He was shocked to see that they were simple workers, armed and equipped with very little.

“What in -?”

“When the attack began, we were closet.” One of them explained, his face white, clutching a wound at his side. “We had to defend Haven, for the Herald…”

“Eduard! Help these men inside now!”

The fighting had subsided for a moment, and Eduard dashed forwards, half carrying some of the wounded back into the safety of the gates. 

Cullen cast his eyes to the host ahead, the torches and banners. And then to Samson. Stood watching on the hill, smirking. What had driven that man to such lengths? Cullen knew that the army was too big for the walls of Haven, too powerful for those they had in the town.

He heard a trebuchet launch and relief flooded him. He turned to watch the avalanche fall from the mountain, burying the advancing army. As the snow fell, a cheer rang through Haven.

“She had done it again! The Herald!”

“She has saved us all.”

Then the cackle of fire rang out across the valley. His stomach fell through him as he heard the wings and the sickening screech break through the air. 

“Dragon!”

“Retreat!” He bellowed. “Get inside the gates now!”

He grabbed his men, flinging them inside, running out to drag more wounded inside the gates and then he positioned himself by the doors, waiting, ushering in any stragglers left coming. He felt his heart beat quicker.

“Where are they?” Eduard cried from his side. He too was shaking, on edge and looking around frantically, trying to spot them.

“There!” Cullen pointed. “Move! Get inside the gates.”

They appeared from the stables, with Harrit alongside them clutching a few items. They ran passed him and he heaved the doors shut, as the arch demon circled outside.

Cullen shook his head, striding up the steps passed the Herald. He turned to look at her. She looked exhausted, those purple eyes beaming into him.

“What do we do?” She asked, her voice quiet, 

“Move to the Chantry, those walls are our safest option.”

He turned from her, not wanting to look into her eyes anymore. He had failed them. Haven was strong enough to withstand an army- and he had known that. He was the Commander, he should have been prepared, ordered a move away from Haven as soon as it was clear it could not sustain their numbers but he had not.

They fought their way back to the Chantry, the way had become blocked with the beasts from the army attacking them. Sera’s arrows pierced on target, Dorian conjured his flames to lick and destroy the demons and Cassandra bellowed forwards along with Eduard and Cullen, while the Herald flanked the enemy, using her stealth and rogue like skills to their advantage.

Yet they could not save everyone. 

“Help me!”

Pandora turned panic on her face to the cry.

“Adan!”

She sprinted up the steps towards the cluster of cabins.

“Pan, no! It is not safe!” Eduard cried, hand outstretched.

Cullen found himself following her, sheathing his weapons and taking two steps at a time to get to her.

“No! It is too dangerous!” He saw Adan look up panic in his eyes. “These barrels-“

“Adan I will get you out! I prom-“

But as she neared, the barrels near him exploded.

She screamed in fury and misery as Adan screamed in pain. The fire engulfed him quickly. He stumbled about, reaching out. He slowly sank to his knees, a molten mess of fire.

Pan cried, tears falling down her cheeks.

“Herald!” Cullen yelled grabbing her arm, she had nearly died. But he soften as he saw her face. “We need to get to the chantry.”

“But Adan… We can’t just leave him here! He saved me but…”

“No.” Cullen spun her to him, and he looked her in the eyes, searching for her hope. He found it. “Don’t think that. Ever. You need to get back to the Chantry, that will give those who still live hope. Adan believed in you and would want you to keep fighting.”

She was breathing heavily, staring at the charred mass which was his remains.

“Pandora?”

Her eyes flickered to his. She nodded.

As they entered the Chantry, Cullen only relaxed slightly. Safe. For now.

“The Chantry is your only hope. Move get in!”

Chancellor Roderick stood, clutching his side, not resting until everyone possible was safe. Cullen suddenly felt sorry for the Cleric.

He slumped just as the doors banged shut and the young rogue from earlier caught him.

“He tried to stop a templar. The blade sunk deep. He is going to die.”

The pale blonde boy spoke. He was half carrying the wounded cleric through the Chantry.

“What a charming boy.”

Cullen shook his head, cursing silently to himself. 

“That dragon stole back any time we had.”

“I’ve seen an archdemon. I have been to the fade. It looked like that.” The young rogue spoke.

“I don’t care what it looks like.” Cullen snapped back. “It has cut a path for that army. They will kill everyone in Haven!”

He looked to Pan. She had paled.

“The elder doesn’t care about the village.” Cole looked up. “He only wants the Herald.”

“Me?” Pan shook her head. “Why?”

“You took his mages. He wants to kill you. Crush you. No one else matters.”

“Wait… I took his mages?” Pan seemed deep in thought. “Did you say the Elder one?”

Cole nodded.

“The same name in the fade.” Dorian added.

“I don’t like him.”

“You don’t like…?” Cullen shook his head in exasperation. He turned back to Pan. “Herald, there are no tactics to make this survivable. They only thing that slowed them was the avalanche. We could turn the remaining trebuchets, cause one last slide.”

His mind was racing, trying to find a solution any solution.

“We are overrun. It would bury Haven.” She frowned.

“We are dying. But we can decide how. Many do not get that choice.”

“No. There is a path. I took it on a pilgrimage. It will take us away from here. An escape.” Roderick spoke up from the chair. “Andraste must have shown me the way… you, are made for more.”

Cullen watched as Roderick stared at the Herald, seeing for the first time what many had believed her to be since the beginning.

“If that thing is meant for me… I will make him fight for it.”

“But, it is suicide!”

“Commander, it wants me. And it can have me. But not these people, not my friends nor my brother.”

She turned to Cullen. He wanted to reach out, beg her to come with him, tell her not to take the risk.

“When the mountain falls… what about you?”

She turned away.

“You will chance it and find a way.” Cullen broke the silence, staring down at the beautiful woman before him. He sounded convincing to himself.

He stood and watched as she turned, alone to face whatever was out there. He watched as the door banged shut. He dragged Eduard through the Chantry as he screamed after her. He endured Sera’s curses and the silence of many others. He half listened as Cassandra implored him to see it was not his fault, he had Commanded well. 

But when he turned to see the monster fling her into the Trebuchet, too far to help her, he felt guilt sweep over him. He should have stayed and not her. Everything was his fault. His alone.


	16. Chapter 16

“I will lead a group of our able bodied troops then!”

Cullen leant over the makeshift table, with a map of the surrounding area spread over it. Eduard stood opposite, pounding the table with his fist.

“The camp is set up, as best we can under circumstances. I have to find her.”

Cullen nodded. 

“We already have some scouts searching to the north of Haven.”

“Then I can take the East.” Eduard pointed to the area on the map. 

Cullen nodded.

“Gather the men and women you can. But only take scouting numbers, we need as many here just in case…”

Eduard snorted. 

“Haven was buried in snow. I doubt they are coming for us.”

Cullen raised his head as the angry man walked off, barking at a few troops to follow him. He heaved a sigh and buried his face in one of his hands, wincing at the headache. He could tell Eduard blamed him. Eduard had not said it, but Cullen knew. They all did. He was the Commander and it was his fault.

He slammed his hands on the table in a roar of frustration. He could not get the image out of his mind. That monster lifting her up and staring at her, the Herald getting flung like a rag doll by that monster and the fire of the dragon preventing her escape. Sera had fired the arrow, and then Haven was buried. He had watched helplessly as she stood up against that thing. The image of her body crumpling against the Trebuchet after she was thrown played in his mind on a loop. Haunting him. He closed his eyes.

Cullen turned, grabbing a few potions and securing them to his belt, hoisting his shield to his back with ease.

“Commander?” Cassandra appeared.

“I cannot stay here and wait.” He secured his armour with a few tugs of the straps. “Not while she…”

Cassandra nodded. “Then I shall accompany you.”

Thunder rumbled through the mountains.

“There is a storm to the south of here, best to avoid it.” Cassandra frowned. “It engulfed Haven just as we escaped.”

“No.” Cullen shook his head. “We go south.”

“But it is a blizzard!”

Cullen did not reply but turned and walked away. He knew she had to be there. If anywhere. If she had survived. Yet he knew she lived, he was not sure how but he could sense it.

He strode up the hill, just so the camp was out of sight, the night engulfing them. Cassandra puffed behind him, keeping up, with two soldiers behind them.

He looked up, the remenants of a storm pouring from a pass between two large cliffs, the wind howling through, thunder rumbling.

A flash of lightning illuminated the area. He saw a small figure emerge from the pass, the wind billowing their robes around them.

“There she is!” He roared.

He ran fowards, forgetting his headache, pushing his own pains away. He reached her just as she slumped forwards from exhaustion. He caught her in his arms and he sank with her, cradling her.

“Thank the Maker!” Cassandra cried with relief.

Cullen looked at her in his arms. She was wheezing, clutching her side and her face was covered with streaks of dirt and blood, one of her eyes was bloodshot.

“Pandora…” He stroked her hair from her face.

She smiled up at him.

“I told you good things happen in storms.” She smiled and then shut her eyes.

“Cullen-!”

Cassandra jumped forwards but Cullen shook his head.

“She is still breathing. but we must get her back and quickly.” 

With one hand still support her in his lap, he un clipped his fur overcoat and bundled her in it. He then rose to his feet slowly, with her cradled in his arms, her head flopping over his arm and her hands dangling down. Occasionally her mark sparked green. 

As they walked back to their makeshift camp, he stole glances at her occasionally. Checking she was still breathing, and looking at her. He had let this happen. She was broken in his arms, only just breathing and it was his fault.

*****

It was a dangerous decision, but they didn’t move camp for three days. In that time, the Herald lay recovering, passing between sleep and a few minutes of coherent conversations before falling again. 

They healed her, mending her bloodshot eye with magic, wrapping a tight bandage around her chest and torso to help her ribs heal and patching up the wounds in her body with herbs. 

“She dreams. She usually does not. But she does now.”

Cullen looked up from the reports from the scouts sent to Haven, to find the strange blonde haired boy before him, staring at the Herald who lay in the tent opposite.

“Pardon?” Cullen frowned, looking towards her. She moved in her sleep, closely watched by her brother who had barely left her side.

Occasionally someone else would visit, Dorian had read parts of the Grimoire to her when she had been awake, Vivienne had stroked her hair and brow, Solas applying herbs and magic to her wounds and the others just talking to her.

“She dreams of her first home, with her mother. A long forgotten memory. Then her father and the mirrors. How she hates mirrors. Reminds her of why she was hated. Reminds her of the pain. She feels like she is watched. She dreams of the tower, how safe she used to feel. And then there is falling and then there is blood.”

Cullen stood, folding his arms shifting slightly on his feet, unsure of what Cole was saying.

“You are in her dreams.”

Cole looked to Cullen.

“You saved her, carried her from the ice.”

Cullen swallowed, not replying.

“She doesn’t blame you. She could never blame you. So you mustn’t blame yourself.” Cole looked deep into Cullens eyes. Imploring him to see reason. 

“I- I am the Commander of these forces.” Cullen replied. “The blame by default lies on myself, and myself only.”

Cole shook his head. “She will make you see, if I cannot. I am going now.”

With that he was gone. Cullen stood a little dumb folded. He sighed, and walked over to the tent to check on his second-in- command, sat with his sister.

“Cullen.” Eduard looked up. He looked tired. “She should come round soon, according to the healers… But…”

He sighed and looked back to his sister.  
“Eduard, have you slept at all?”

“No.” He admitted. “I am afraid too… in case-“

“She is no longer in peril. She will not die.”

“I know, but I want to be here when the wakens.”

Eduard sat and watched her. Cullen stood and watcher her. Only the noise of the others in camp and the wind filled the air between them.

“Cullen, I am sorry.” 

“Whatever for?”

“When we left Haven- I… said some nasty things to you. Things which were not true.” Eduard shook his head. “It was not your fault she went. We all survived because of your thinking.”

“No. It is my fault. I should have prepared Haven better… I should have known it would not withstand a force. And she saved us, not I.”

Eduard shook his head. “I disagree. You both saved us.”

She moaned, and slowly her eyes flickered open. She looked around.

“Pan. Are you awake for real this time?” Eduard leaned in.

“I think so.” She croaked and sat up. 

Cullen swallowed, and turned, leaving the two to have their time. Pandora watched as Cullen left, her heart falling slightly that he was walking away. She wanted to thank him.

“Thank the maker.” Eduard laughed in relief, and pushed his hair back. “You have been in and out of consciousness. Do you remember Dorian reading to you?”

Pan turned her head to the book next to the bed and nodded.

“We both read that book during trying times in our life.” She smiled. “He remembered.”

“I will get you some water and food.” Eduard stood. “You need to regain your strength.”

She smiled until he was turned from her and then her face fell. She studied her hands. She was meant to leave. She breathed in, bringing her knees up to her body and burying her head in them. She shut her eyes.

She was unaware that in her moment of true weakness, Cullen had turned and seen her when her smile had faded.


	17. Chapter 17

“Shadows fall and hope has fled. Steal your heart the dawn will come. The night is long and the path is dark, look to the sky for one day soon…”

Pan outstretched her hand high above her. She looked up at the high vaulted ceiling of her quarters in Skyhold. Steam rose from her hand into the air above. Beads of water dripping from her light brown skin. 

“The dawn will come.”

She sighed and sunk into the bath water, the heat encompassing her, swallowing her whole. She relished the time she had to herself, and the steaming bath in her quarters. She opened her eyes in the water and bubbles came from her mouth. Despite everything she felt at peace.

They had arrived after the long march from the temporary camp to Skyhold, thanks to Solas. They had changed her mind. 

Cassandra, Leliana, Cullen and Josephine had been arguing for hours. And she had watched and listened from the bed, Mother Giselle beside her, who was watching over her while Eduard slept. She had risen from the bed, managing only barely to hold herself on her feet, unsure of what to do. Should she still leave them? But there was a bigger threat now, Corypheus. It was then that they began singing, looking to her for hope.

Her purple eyes flashed in the bath water and she emerged, running her hands over her face and through her hair. It was good to feel clean again.

They had changed her mind. How could she leave them, when they looked to her for hope and inspiration? She sat in the bath, with her chin resting on her knees and eyes shut. She was thinking. She was the Inquisitor now.

“I am the Inquisitor. A mage.” She spoke to herself, still trying to convince herself it was real.

They had cheered her as she lifted the sword high into the sky. Her friends had watched, cheering too, her brother among the loudest.

“You can’t ignore me forever you know, my beautiful noble.”

She turned her head, so her right cheek was resting on her knees. She opened her eyes and lazily looked over to her left. There was a figure stood by her desk, the sheer curtains fluttered slightly in the breeze, gently revealing the person before they fell once more making them a blur. He was smirking.

“I am not going to.”

The smirk faded, as did the figure.

She stood from the bath, her feet landing on the plush fur rug next to her bath. She rose a hand to move passed the curtain and walked over to her bed. Her body was covered in scars and nasty looking burn marks. Yet it was still smooth, with steam rising from her skin.

She wrapped herself in a cotton towel and dried herself off. As she dressed and looked up to the mural Solas had painted for her above her bed. She smiled and left her quarters.

*****

As she made her way down the stairs, she tied her drying hair into a high ponytail, leaving her bangs to frame her face. She pushed the door open into the main hall. It was still under construction but it had already progressed in the couple of days they had been there. She could not wait to see Skyhold in its full might. 

She turned, pushing open another door, walking passed the empty desk where Josephine usually stood and through another door.

Pan froze for a moment, before making her down the long corridor. The wind blew in from the destroyed section of walls, her red scarf flapping in the breeze, along with the tassels from parts of her outerwear. She froze once again, before the doors to the War Room.

She breathed in and then heavily through her nose. Was she really ready to do this? Her gloved hands rested on the door for a moment. They could kick her out the Inquisition.

“It needs to be done.” She mumbled to herself.

She looked up as she pushed and walked into the war room. They turned to face her, smiling.

“Inquisitor.” Leliana inclined her head slightly, grinning. “I am pleased that you called this meeting, we have plenty to discuss.”

“In particular our next move.” Cullen inputted.

“We already know where Corypheus will strike next.”

“The Orlesian Empire.” Pandora nodded, walking over to the map on the table.

“We do not have the influence necessary for an invitation to the Court.” Josephine sighed.

“Then we will have to build it.” Pandora smiled.

“What we do next is your decision.” Cullen nodded at her.

She studied the map.

“We should hold a memorial for Haven, Cullen could the forces do such?”

“Certainly, Inquisitor. They will be honoured to conduct such a ceremony.”

“Josephine, we need to secure more noble alliances. I believe there is a dispute in Orlais.”

“A few words, and it shall be done.” She smiled and began to scribble her pen.

Pan leant over the table, as they watched her.

“… Look. This is really difficult for me to do.” She sighed, realising she could not put it off anymore. She looked up at each of them. 

Josie stopped scribbling and looked back, Leliana frowned hands behind her back and Cullen stood with his wrist resting on the hilt of his sword.

“You wanted to know what happened after Ostwick fell, before the Conclave.” She swallowed, and began to twirl her fingers unsure what else to do. It was harder than she thought. “Well, I was rescued by someone when I jumped from the tower.”

She paused, but no one interrupted. They waited, letting her talk it out.

“I trusted this person. He saved my life. Promised me shelter, as I was by all intents and purposes an apostate mage. He told me of a group near the Antivan border living in one of the cave system. It was said they were helping people in this chaos, a refuge for innocent mages and even Templar.”

She looked up as Cullen shuffled a little uncertainly. Leliana had barely moved.

“I thought I was going to help, I was finally out the circle and I was going to help people. But… they lied. He lied. They were a group of Blood Mages, practicing some strange magic and dangerous. They did not help people. They killed them, tortured them for power.”

Her fingers twirled faster and faster. She breathed in deeply. She had never spoke of this before.

“Including myself. I stayed there for a few months, under mind control until I was able to escape and find the survivors of Ostwick.” She breathed in. “I should have told you sooner, but I was frightened, Blood Magic has a huge stigma… and rightly so. I am concerned that this group is somehow connected… What I saw in the future, was powerful blood magic. They kind they used.”

She coughed slightly and looked at the seams of her gloves,

“I have someone in mind who can scout the cave systems in that area.” Leliana nodded, knowing what Pan wished. “I have heard reports recently of some strange occurrences in that area, they could be linked.”

“Thank you. They are dangerous, your scout must be prepared and warned.”

“Then we should send Templar.” Cullen frowned. Pan looked up. She was unsure of his expression. 

“Too risky.” Leliana shook her head. “The Templar would wish to root them out. My Agent would simply report of activity. We cannot risk mind control.”

“I- I am really sorry, that I didn't tell you sooner…”

“No need to apologise Inquisitor.” Leliana tilted her head, smiling slightly. “Each of us has parts of our lives we are not proud of.”

Josie smiled. “We knew that something was bothering you. Albeit nothing as serious as mind control.”

“How?”

“We are friends. We know when something is wrong.”

Pan flashed a faint smile.

“Thank you.” She whispered. “I thought you would hate me, throw me out of the Inquisition.”

“Never.” Leliana shook her head.

Only Cullen remained silent. She looked at him, and he looked at her with uncertainty.

“I will leave with Dorian, Sera and Bull for the Fallow Mire tomorrow morning. We have troops there... they need to be saved. Too many have died already.” 

Pandora walked out of the war room, a weight lifted from her shoulders. She had not expected it to go that well.

She walked to the ruined wall and looked out to the sun as the wind flapped her tassels and scarf.

“Inquisitor.”

Cullen appeared from the door, it shut behind him. 

“Commander.”

She turned to face him, still unsure how he was reacting. He was an ex-templar. Blood Magic was forbidden.

“Commander, I-I never practiced the Blood Magic, I swear.” She found herself babbling out. She felt as though she had not been clear enough. 

He shook his head. “I know.”

“I thought you would hate me.”

“How could I ever hate you?” 

Pandora felt a blush rise to her cheeks.

“As blood magic is forbidden, a blight on the world.”

Cullen shook his head. “Being a victim to blood magic is different. If I were to judge you on that, what short of person would that make myself? Pardon my direct question but is… er… that why you scream in your sleep?”

She blushed. So he had heard her. Or at least read reports from soldiers. She nodded.

“Part of it yes.”

“The rest of it… your family?”

“Yes.” She frowned. “Why do you care?”

“I am the Commander, I should know.”

She felt deflated.

“And… I care, because…” Cullen coughed. A silence hung between them.

“I am glad you - so many escaped Haven.”

Cullen smiled. She began to turn around, but she sensed him stride towards her his hand grabbed her arm, gently but with some urgency. His touch was like electricity. 

“Pandora, what happened at Haven… It will not happen again. You have my word. You have seen too much destruction. I will ensure that you, the Inquisition is safe hear.”

She smiled.

“Thank you.”

They were close. He could smell her fresh skin and hair, like apricots and herbs.

The opening of the war room doors broke their moment. They stepped away from each other. Cullen grabbed his neck and Pan twirled her fingers.

“Oops.” Leliana smirked as she skipped passed. “Sorry to interrupt.”

Josie winked at Cullen as they left, leaving through the opposite door.

“Well.” Pandora bobbed on her heels. “I need to go and see how everyone else is settling in.”

“Yes, your brother is probably running around Skyhold searching for you.” Cullen chuckled.

“Thank you Cullen.” Pandora turned and left.

Cullen let out a huge breathe of air and ran his fingers through his hair. He had not expected her story to be like that. He was unsure what he had thought she had done before the Conclave: perhaps fend for herself in the wilds? Not sucked into a Blood Magic cult against her will. 

He leant against the wall and imagined her inside a dark cave, frightened and tortured for Blood magic. He frowned, blinking the terrible image from his mind. He could not imagine her like that. It had been enough seeing her smile fade as she sat on the bed, she had looked so small, so unsure and defenceless. It was enough to have seen her stand up against that monster, too far to help her. He knew what Blood Magic could do. He knew how it change the way your mind worked. Yet he had only suffered for a couple of days. She had… 

“By the maker.” He shook his head, his fist clenching.

****

Commander,

We have made contact with the Scouts in the Fallow Mire. The undead are rising from the water. A plague seems to have passed through the settlements in this area, and the rain is drenching us through. At least on the Storm Coast, there were pockets of dry spells- but here the rain is a constant barrage. We have managed to activate a few veil fire beacons, which seems to be carving a clear path back to camp for us. We are also tracking a mage, who might know more about the behaviour of the undead we are seeing here. Iron Bull reckons we should reach the Avvar stronghold within the next few hours.

Thank you for your previous letter, I am pleased that the fortifications are coming along nicely and that you finally have a quarters established. Where in Skyhold are they?

I do not mean to pry, especially by means of letter but I am curious about your home village. Walking through the Mire has got me thinking that perhaps it is similar to this dank place, full of despair. As you are from Ferelden surely it saw the Blight?

Pandora.

 

Inquisitor,

Scout Harding notified Leliana of your arrival immediately. That certainly is trouble, watch your step. News of plague even more worrying, please take care, although I doubt I have to warn you as such. The soldiers in the camps are trying their best to keep your back up equipment as dry as possible, so once you return you should have something dry to settle in.

I am in a tower, connected to the main hall by a bridge, overlooking the mountains of Skyhold. It is far enough away that I am left relatively alone to read my reports, but close enough so I am still reachable if an issue arises. But sometimes I catch myself staring out of the window. I particularly enjoy strolling along the battlements, inspecting the fortifications but also to catch the mountain air. It clears the mind.

I am from Honnleath, and yes it was overrun by darkspawn during the Blight. Luckily my family escaped, apart from my parents. I was stationed at Kinloch hold, sheltered from the Blight largely. The village was typical of settlements belonging to the Arling of Redcliffe. There used to be a statue of a mage named Wilheim in the centre of the village. He was a hero during the rebellion against Orlais. The statue used to serve as a meeting place for people and birds. I believe the story may interest you, I shall search for the book so you can have it upon your return. The village was largely destroyed during the blight, but I believe it is slowly returning to its former beauty. My siblings still live near there.

I know this may not be a favourite topic for you, but what of Ostwick?

Maker watch over you,

Commander Cullen

 

Commander,

We have secured the troops, luckily no one was harmed by the Avvar. We have also gained a new Agent, named Skywatcher. He is incredible and huge! Avvar are so fierce looking, we were lucky to have defeated the leader! The soldiers did a wonderful job at keeping supplies dry, however as soon as we step outside we become drenched once more. I look forward to returning to Skyhold without the rain.

I think I see that tower from my balcony. I imagine the views from it are breathtaking. There is something magical about mountain air. So pure and fresh, how I miss it already!

I recall you saying you were from Honnleath. I am sorry to here about your parents. The Blight must have been terrible for everyone... I was still a young apprentice at the time, we got reports at the circle, which constantly kept us up to speed with events. The Hero of Ferelden Tabris was particularly inspiring! A city elf who had escaped persecution! We would read the reports and image being conscripted to the Wardens to fight against the Blight. Those fantasies seem so foolish now, thinking to how many died. We read them with sympathy for those who lost so much. That place sounds so peaceful and inspiring! I certainly would love to read about Wilheim, I look forward to it Commander.

I only knew two places in Ostwick: the Trevelyan estate and the Circle. You know which I preferred. The Circle was located outside of town, unlike other circles in the Marches. It was surrounded by glades and woods, sometimes they would flood in adverse weather, but the tower was built with a good drainage around it. So luckily the tower never flooded. We could see the city from the windows however, in the distance. It always looked lively. The Trevelyan estate was in the hills outside of the town, it was big for a lesser noble family. 

I look forward to returning.

Pandora.

 

Inquisitor,

I am pleased by the news, our men will be incredibly grateful that you personally led them to liberty. I am afraid I did chuckle a little that your equipment does not remain dry, perhaps you should practice fire magic? Forgive my joke. 

Skyhold is different without you here. 

There is no need to apologise. They died honourably, protecting their family and home. The Blight was indeed... a troubled time for all yes. It lead to many different problems, not all related to the dark spawn. I met her once at the tower. She was a fierce woman to behold. I have located the book, so you must come and find me when you return, unless I find you first.

Kinloch was also located away from any towns, I was surprised that Kirkwall was within the city walls! 

I await your return.

Make watch over you,

Commander Cullen.


	18. Chapter 18

She re-read the letter in the warmth of Skyhold. Dorian sat lazily on the armchair in the library, in the nook he had claimed as his own, books spilled around him. She sat near him, a cushion supporting her back as she leant against the bookshelf. 

The two mages had a routine, when they were back in Skyhold. She would arrive with a selection of cakes she had baked in the kitchens and a drink, settling herself on the floor with cushions to make her comfortable, while he sat in the arm chair near the window. Every time he would offer to switch, but she would decline. 

For hours they would spend time in each others company, reading books and munching on cakes and sipping the fruity wine from the kitchens. Sometimes they would forget their books and talk at length about their adventures, laughing at jokes or discussing their latest reads. 

Recently, their talk had moved towards Blood Magic. She still had told few people, her advisors, her brother, and Dorian been the ones she had discussed her past with personally. 

Yet she felt it was only Dorian who could offer some solace and some understanding at how brutal blood magic could be. Pan knew Solas did not see the same evil in Blood Magic as she did- but with Dorian he was a mage, he knew the danger. As Altus mage of the Imperium he had more exposure than others. So he was less judgmental. Less likely to immediately condemn her as some evil mage. He had not condemned her. Unlike some of the others: Sera had spoken to her little, and the others seemed more cautious. 

The book she had been reading lay at her side, forgotten as she poured once more over the letter. In particular at the sentence: “I await your return.”

They had arrived in the night, the evening before, and they had immediately returned to their quarters to wash and dry themselves falling into a much needed deep slumber. She squinted at the page and re-read the sentence, his handwriting careful his words were always so carefully used. I await your return.

“Fasta vass.”

She heard Dorian curse under his breath, setting his book down with an annoyed sigh.

“You have been reading that piece of almost ruined parchment, the same side may I add, in the time it has taken me to read 50 pages. Usually you are adept to keep up with my speed, this is highly odd. What is taking so much of your interest?”

She looked up at him peering down at her, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Nothing.” She lied.

He sighed once more. 

“Your brother mentioned you were a terrible liar. And I must agree with him. Pandora, you can hide little from those who know you well. What has our Commander said which has enraptured your brilliant mind?”

“Why… How do you know it is the Commander?”

“Well it was just a mere guess before, however you have just let the game away.”

Pandora grabbed a cake and stuffed it into her mouth.

“Not that I particularly care…”

“Good evening." They looked up to see Eduard. Pan stuffed the letter into her sleeve and smiled up at her brother, who leant on the bookshelf with one arm, flashing his charming smile. "It isn't evening." Pandora frowned. "I thought it apt, considering it took your adventure party until after noon to awaken.” 

“The Fallow Mire was hardly a relaxing experience.” Pan replied.

“Whatever do you mean? I thought battling hordes of undead was extremely therapeutic.” Dorian chirped.

“Not as therapeutic as dodging the battle axe of the Avvar chief. That really made me feel at ease.” Pan flashed her smile at Dorian, who returned it with a smirk,

“Just undead and an Avvar chief? Why, that would have made my week!” Eduard pushed from the bookshelf and folded his arms. “Want to swap that for all my reports?”

“No I would rather face a horde of undead.” Pandora admitted.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Eduard bent down, popping a cake into his mouth, smiling at the taste. “But I need to speak to your Tevinter mage.”

“Oh ok.” Pandora smiled, remaining sitting.

Eduard raised his eyebrows.

“Oh… I shall just leave.” 

Pandora stood, grabbing the forgotten book and securing it to her belt for later. She glanced between her brother and Dorian, slightly confused.

“See you both later.”

“Indeed.” Dorian nodded, remaining sat in his seat.

As she walked away her brother called out. “Thank you for bringing me the pastries earlier Pan!”

She turned and waved her hand, smiling. Her brother returned the wave. As she walked away, down the stairs, the last thing she caught sight of was her brother moving into the alcove the bookshelves obscuring the view.  
Before she realised it she found herself stood on the bridge, outside of the main building of Skyhold. She was stood on the wall, looking down below to the people moving around. The wind whipping around her. 

“Jump.”

She faltered, moving forwards slightly. The words enticing her forwards.

“Jump.”

She shook herself, frowning, stepping back. She blinked, not quite remembering how she had moved so quickly or why she had stepped towards the edge. 

“Inquisitor?”

She jumped turning to see a runner, walking along the bridge. She smiled, pushing her thoughts from her.

“Good afternoon. It is Gregory isn't it?”

The runner looked a little shocked for a moment, before a smile spread.

“Y-yes. I didn’t think you knew who I was.”

“I try and remember everyone who I come across.” She tilted her head. Bull had once shown her that knowing her people was important, and since she had made a more conscious effort. “We first met in Haven, didn't we?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

He coughed and adjusted his helms.

“I am just going to the Commanders tower.” He pointed behind him. “Commander Cullen should be within if you want to see him? I am sure he would be happy to see you.”

His question was more a suggestion. Pandora thought for a moment and then smiled. She nodded and walked alongside the runner. Gregory grinned to himself. He had heard the Commander had not been in a particularly good mood as of late, he thought the Inquisitor might cheer him up.

As they neared the door to the tower she felt her nerves rise within her. She did not know why. They had talked extensively via letters since she had told them about the Blood Magic cult. But she was still uncertain. She had to be. People were afraid of mages, but one involved with blood magic was the worst scenario possible.

Before she realised it they were at the door, watching it swing open into the tower. 

“Commander.” Gregory rushed forwards with the report. “Update from our troops in the Mire and Hinterlands.”

Cullen looked from his bookshelf to the runner, nodding to the desk.

“Thank you I shall look into it.”

The runner back tracked and winked at Pandora before closing the door shut behind him. Pan looked around the tower, realising she had not been within before. It was not as bright as her quarters, a little dark, perhaps too dark. The windows letting in light were slits, for defence. 

“Inquisitor.” Cullen turned, with a slight smile on his face. “I trust your journey back from the Mire was uneventful compared to what you left?”

Pan nodded.

“It was rather refreshing to be journeying without constant wet clothing.”

“Was there something you needed?” He looked curious. He moved over to the desk to scan the report.

Pandora faltered for a moment thinking he was busy and that she should not interrupt him.

“If you are busy then I can leave…”

“No.” Cullen looked up, dropping the report back on his desk. He looked at her properly. “I am not busy at all. I am always here to listen.”

“I thought we could talk. Alone?”

“Alone? I mean, of course.”

They walked outside to the battlements in silence. Only the slight mountain wind whispered between them. Pan began to twirl her fingers around in front of her, wondering how to approach her feelings.

“It’s a nice day.”

Cullens' voice cut through the breeze. She frowned. Only when he is around beautiful women. She remembered what her brother had said once. He sounded nervous and when she turned to him, she noted his hand was on the back of his neck, looking anywhere but in her eyes.

“What?”

“Its… There was something you wished to discuss?” He finally looked to her.

She felt her heartbeat increase, blood rushing around her body. She could not avoid it any longer.

“Cullen, over the past month or however long it has been… We have spoken a lot, in letters and in person." She twirled her fingers around, staring at her hands. Was she even ready for this? Where these feelings even genuine? "I care for you and I-“ She struggled, wondering how to say what she meant to say. 

In truth she was afraid. Afraid of rejection. She sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

His eyes burned into her now, as though he were searching for something.

“You don’t act like an ex templar around the mages here. But you were a Templar. And I am a mage. A mage who was exposed to a blood magic cult for sometime, perhaps corrupted…An apostate, albeit reluctantly.” She frowned at the thought. “Despite everything, I need to know, could you think of me as anything more?”

“I could… I mean I do, think about you. All the time. Your past does not change that. It doesn’t change that I have come to care for you too.” He touched his head for a moment, before walking towards the battlements. “I also think about what I might say in this situation.”

Pandora lent against the edge, feeling the wind blow her hair.

“What’s stopping you? The Blood Magic?” 

“No.” He shook his head and looked at her. He really looked at her.

He begged her to see that he could never hold someones past against them, not after what he had nearly become, the man he had been in the Templar Order.

“You are the Inquisitor. We are at war. And you… I didn’t think it would be possible.”

He moved closer. Pandora smiled widely, her eyes sparkling purple in the light, dazzling. 

“And yet I am still here.”

She felt her stomach fill with butterflies, as he neared ever closer. She could smell him: freshly scented linen and leather, with hints of sweat. She wanted nothing more than to bury herself into his chest, smell him all day. He was so close she could feel his breath.

“So you are… it seems too much to ask. But I want to-”

They heard the door creak open from the tower. They were so close. But he was still hesitant. She wondered why.

“Commander!”

She pulled away. He stared ahead, passed Pan to the mountains beyond. He felt the annoyance rise within him. He was stupid to think he would get time alone enough with her to truly show her how he felt. He remained where he was, slightly hoping that the runner would disappear.

“You wanted a copy of Sister Leliana’s report.”

He turned to face to the runner, who was walking looking down at the report in his hand.

“What?” Cullen spun. His voice was calm and steady, despite the annoyance welling within him.

“Sister Leliana’s report. You wanted it delivered without delay.” The runner finally looked up. He was taken aback by the copper eyes which seemed to be on fire.

He turned his attention to the movement behind the Commander. He noted the Inquisitor stood leaning on the wall, covering her face, looking a little sheepish. He turned back to the Commander. The fire in his eyes still burning. Then he remembered how Gregory had tried to stop him going, he had said the Commander was not in his tower. But he had seen the Commander on the Battlements and so had decided to go anyway. He did not want to risk delaying the report.

He should have listened to Gregory. He hoped the Commander didn’t know who he was.

“Or to your… office… right.” He backed away, and turned hurrying as fast as he could away. 

Pan massaged her brow and sighed. “Cullen if that report needs your attention then-“

She stopped speaking. Cullen moved towards her quickly, giving her little time to think. Before she knew it, his fingers were entwined in her smooth black hair, his chest against her chest and his face close to hers. His lips touched hers, gently at first, but as she sighed in relief, he began to kiss her desperately. His lips felt smooth, and gentle against hers, warm. He stopped for a brief moment, his lips hovering just above hers, enticing her. She this time closed the small gap, planting small kisses on his lips.

Suddenly he pulled away, his hands still in her hair. He looked into her eyes.

“I am sorry.” He looked sheepish. “I didn’t ask if it was ok to do that… but er, that was nice.”

“That was what I wanted.” She spoke quietly, smiling.

“Good.” He smiled back.

This time they kissed passionately, making up for all the time they had not acted on their impulses. She moved her hands to the back of his neck, never wishing to let go. She marvelled at how good it felt to be kissed. How right it felt. How different it felt.

*****

“Amateurs.” 

Leliana was stood watching over Skyhold, a raven squawking by her side. She watched over as the Commander made his move and smiled, knowing it would not stay a secret for long. 

“Nice of you to finally join me.”

She tilted her back, turning from the scene below. Stood by the doorway to her rookery was a cloaked figure, leaning against the wall.

“Tell me, what of the caves on the Antivan border? I assume it is important, or you would have written.”

“How perceptive.” A thick male Antivan accent replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have decided to not follow the exact storyline of the Cullen romance. So if you thought I had missed anything, I have missed it, either as I have decided to not include it or come back to it later.


	19. Chapter 19

“I have an update Inquisitor.” Leliana looked up from her desk, not missing the mage walking up the stairs.

“An update?” Pan frowned slightly, unsure what she could mean.

She had returned from the Approach earlier that day, and after a few hours of turning her boots inside out and upside down she had only just gotten rid of the sand. Her mind swam with the bizarre magic found in the Approach, herself and Vivienne spent most of the time investigating once it had been made clear. Much to the complaining of Iron Bull and mutterings from Cole. Pan had checked up on most of her friends and companions since returning. Sera had finally come around from her fear of her Blood Magic past, offering her a half drank bottle of wine. Her brother was out in the Frostbacks, he had kept in contact through letters. She realised she had not seen the spymaster in a while and her request, although urgent had been forgotten.

“Yes.” Leliana folded her arms. “Regarding your request to look into any activity on the Antivan border?”

Pan nodded, her hands beginning to twirl. Her fingers spinning round and round each other. Part of her did not wish to know, but she could not ignore the links- the fact that the group she had once belonged were involved somehow. The signs had been at Redcliffe. 

“I sent one of our best agents, to scout the area.” Leliana took in a breath and narrowed her eyes. “He found evidence of a group once belonging there at some point. But they are long gone.”

“What evidence?” Pan managed to whisper. It was not what she wanted to hear. She wanted them to still be there or dead. Not gone.

“A few burnt books, remains of camps within the tunnels all linked together and a lot of bones.”

Pan shivered. The amount of people who had gone into those caves and never returned. She held little doubt that their ghosts haunted the taverns, crying out in endless pain.

“And this.” Leliana produced something from the desk. “My agent collected this as the only thing of any value.”

Pandora looked down at her hands. An ornate mirror. It was made of all kinds of gemstones, glinting in the faint candle lights and the sunlight which streamed into the rookery. Without a doubt an enchanted mirror. Pandora let out a sharp hiss and looked around. It needed studying, but it set her on edge.

“Have you got anything to wrap this in?” She murmured.

Leliana frowned a little shocked. “Whyever-“

Pan set her eyes on a sack and grabbed it, dumping out the contents onto the floor. Bird food patted against the floor and she hurriedly wrapped the mirror within it.

“Sorry for making a mess.” She frowned at the floor, apologising. “This needs further study. It could have an enchantment on it, or hold some other clues as to where they may have gone and why.”

Leliana tilted her head. “How so?”

“I am uncertain.” Pan admitted. “But there is magic on this mirror. Yet I can not risk the dangers either. Thank you Leliana.”

She looked at the spymaster and smiled. Leliana nodded.

“My agent will continue to search and follow any leads.”

Pandora walked away from the rookery, holding the ornate mirror wrapped in the sack. She went to her quarters, placing the mirror carefully in her desk She scrawled a horrid note to remind herself about it- although she doubted she would forget. 

Pandora nibbling climbed down from her high room, into the courtyard to a few surprised gasps where she spotted Dorian and Cullen mulling over a game of chess. She smiled widely and walked over.

*****

Everything danced before his vision. Once clear writing on the pages before him, swam around, blurring on the edge and he was unable to see it clearly. He quickly stripped off his gloves, realising how profusely he was sweating due to his warmth. The fever burnt on his forehead, as a headache raged within. 

Cullen had felt fine. He woke feeling oddly happy, walking around with a smile on his face which Varric made a sly comment on. Pan had returned from the Approach earlier in the morning, and they had spent the late afternoon playing chess in the Skyhold courtyard and gardens.

He had been playing with Dorian, who had stayed behind from the outing to the Approach. Cullen had taken some pride in seeing the Tevinter mages brow furrow in concentration. He had enjoyed the game. The pair had never had much chance to converse much, but Cullen found that the mages company was pleasant. Their conversations drifted to many topics, yet it always returned to the Trevelyan siblings. Just as he dealt the finishing blow to claim victory over the game, the Inquisitor appeared. They knew she had arrived in the courtyard from the surprised gasps. She had jumped down. Dorian gracefully handed over the baton, whispering a warning in her ear. The dear Commander was more than he seemed.

He had enjoyed it. They had spoke about so much. He about his family and her about her own. He was intrigued about life in the Trevelyan manor. She had spoken favourably concerning her late father and the games herself and Eduard would play as children. There were only hints at unhappiness concerning her stepmother and sisters. There was still much she was holding back about her life, but he knew in her own time she would be able to talk about it. He did not wish to pressure her into something she clearly had trouble discussing and thinking about. He could understand.

She was a decent advisory, and she had demanded a rematch when she figured out he had let her win. She followed him as he climbed the steps to the battlements, and planted a kiss on his lips far from preying eyes, wishing him a goodnight. Her kisses were soft, and she often planted a second on his lips, lingering longer as if unsure of something. The more he got to know her, the more her beauty shone through, the more he ached to see her and the more he wanted to kiss her lips again and again. He never thought he would feel like that with anyone. Since the day he joined the Templar, he had resigned himself to a life serving. He had never once contemplated his own happiness. Since Kinloch Hold, he never deemed himself even worthy of happiness. 

“Commander?”

Cullen grunted, shielding his eyes from the light as a runner entered through the door opposite. The bright light streamed in, isolating his headache as though someone had taken a knife and was tapping away into his skull.

“Update reports from Second in Command in the Frostbacks.”

The report was slid into his hand, and his vision swam before his eyes.

The runner looked in shock at the Commander, whose skin was sallow, pale and beaded with sweat.

“Thank you.” Cullen managed to mutter.

As he left the tower Cullen realised that he could not do it anymore. He kept close to the walls, his gloved hands weakly touching the stone. The light seemed to burn into his skull. A sharp piercing pain. It reminded him of the torture from the Desire Demon. He shivered. He could not stop shivering. Even though the day was relatively warm. 

Cassandra looked up as he stumbled into the armoury.

“Commander!?-“

“I… Cassandra… I cannot…” Cullen shook his head, his hand resting on the hard wooden table. He liked it in the armoury. The light did not hurt. And it was warm. The only problem was the noise.

“What do you mean?” She narrowed her eyes.

“I ask you, to relieve me of my duty. I am not capable.” He panted.

“No.”

“Pardon?”

“No. You have come too far.”

“I- you do not understand!” Cullen begged. “It is torture. My body it wants Lyrium, I am unable to do what I need to do. Haven should have been proof enough. Relieve me of my duty or I quit.”

Suddenly the door burst open. Stood in the blinding light was the Inquisitor. Cullen strained his eyes and felt sickness rise. Not now. She walked in, that warm smile spreading on her face. But as she surveyed the situation, Cullen leaning almost as if he were wounded on the table, skin a sickly colour and his eyes darting everywhere it faded.

Cullen shook his head, standing to move away. He paused before her. He dared to look at her, into her concerned purple eyes. He was a burden. 

“I am sorry.”

With that he walked from the armoury.

Somehow he managed to stumble back to his tower. He almost drunkenly lurched to his desk, ripping out one of the drawers, lifting out a grand looking case and throwing the drawer to one side. He ignored as it shattered against the wall. His hands trembled as he open the case.

His copper eyes stared down at the kit. The Lyrium looked back at him taunting him. He stroked the case. He remembered the first time he took the draft. How powerful he had felt. How he could feel the essence flow through his veins, heightening his senses and making him more attuned to the magic around him. He had been young. They controlled the Templar through the Lyrium. He remembered the first apostate mage he had killed, the way the Lyrium had called him on and cheered as his sword plunged into their heart. He could not even remember the face anymore, just the power. Lyrium coursed through the body like any other drug, but for Templar it was the basis of everything they were. Cullen also remembered the image of Samson in their shared quarters. His greasy dark hair obscuring his face as he lay on the bed, a haunting smile on his face. How his addiction had slowly taken ahold, the numerous discarded bottles. 

“Mages cannot be friends. They are not people like you and me.” He remembered those words he spoke with venom. His shivering became more intense.

“All you have to do, is take me.” 

His vision vibrated, everything blurring apart from the bottle. 

“Take one last draught. Think of the power. You will not fail the Inquisition anymore with me. You won’t fail her anymore.”

The way she had been flung by that monster, the way she had charged at the army and he had stood there. 

He took it out and turned it over and over. He would become powerful again. He would be the Commander that the Inquisition and the Inquisitor needed, not some wreck. Eduard still took the stuff. But if he took it again, what was he then? Bounded back to a life he did not want anymore, bounded to addiction and perhaps… would he turn into the person he was before? Had that person ever truly gone? Even now he still looked at mages with some concern, particularly those he did not now.

The voices grew louder. Conflicting instructions.

“Ahhhhh!” He let out a loud roar, throwing the vial back in the case and throwing it across the room. Damn the stuff. Damn the Order for turning them into this. And damn himself for everything he had done in the past that lives to haunt him.

The case soared across the room, narrowly missing the Inquisitor as she walked in, before smashing against the wall. She flinched noticeably and Cullen felt shame. Was this what he was to become, a broken man whose outbursts made people afraid?

Pandora watched as the vial shattered on the wall and floor. Her head had whipped around to avoid the case and followed its trajectory. Her purple eyes widened as she turned to the Commander who stood at his desk, face contorted in confusion, pain and so many other emotions. Beads of sweat had gathered on his forehead. 

“I-I am sorry!” Cullen stammered. His words came in pained breaths. “I did not see… I would never…. I am sorry.”

Many thoughts raced through her head. A few months ago, she would have stood timidly barely managing a whisper and walked away as quickly as she could. But she had changed. She was no longer the same as she had been before.

And she knew Cullen. She knew him from their numerous letters since she had joined the Inquisition. The words her brother had spoken about him. She knew him from the meetings. She knew him from their conversations, he loved his family albeit he had not seen them since the Blight. She knew him from the few kisses they had recently shared, kisses of new lovers. She knew he had given up Lyrium and Pandora was aware of the effects of the drug. How difficult it must be for him and how he had carried that burden almost alone for the longest time.

“Are you alright?” Pandora frowned, realising the stupidity of her question. She knew he was not fine. She could see it pretty clearly. She moved closer.

Cullen shuffled uncomfortably and refused to look her in the eye. He was ashamed. He was at his weakest. He shouldn’t be weak. He was the Commander. 

“Cassandra told me that you have stopped taking Lyrium.”

Cullen braced himself. He was unsure what to expect her to say.

“… Will it kill you?”

He blinked. He was not expecting that.

“No.” He shook his head a faint smile dancing on his lips.

“Well… You do not look the best.” Pandora picked her words carefully. She tilted her head and moved closer.

“It is the withdrawals.” Cullen laughed bitterly. “They do not tell you that when you take your first draught. How your body craves more, how your body aches without it.”

“You are very brave to stop taking it.”

“I did not want to be bound to that life anymore.” He moved to the window.

Pandora watched as he seemed to shrink in on himself.

“You once asked about the Circle at Ferelden. It was taken over by abominations. I was there when the Blood mages took hold of the tower. They tortured me. I saw my friends, the Templars, die around me and they kept me alive, a demon taunting me with visions… Tried to break my mind- How can you be the same after that? I went to Kirkwall… and for what? To see the Knight Commander become mad from her fear of mages and I did nothing to stop it. I trusted her and-” 

He shook his head. 

“The circle fell… innocent people died in the steets. I do not want to be bound to that life anymore. But how can I give any less to the Inquisiton as I did the Chantry?”

He stared at the glass and pounded the wall with a fist. 

“Haven was proof enough that I should be taking it. I watched you enter the fray and I did nothing. Once more I did nothing. I should be taking it.”

Without him realising he had begun to pace and was stood by the bookshelves. He pouted the wood a few books tumbling from their place. He shut his eyes.

“I thought this would be better. I could regain control over my life. But these thoughts won’t leave me. How many lives depend on our success? I swore myself to this cause… I should be taking it!”

More books fell.

“This is not about the Inquiition. Is that what you want?”

For a moment, his vision cleared. She was closer, head tilted in concern and purple eyes sparkling with concern and hope. She was a vision to behold. And she put him before everything else. His heart swelled a little.

“No.” he admitted. “But these memories… have always haunted me.”

The Circle… abominations. Feelings of inadequacy. The demons. Innocents dying.

“And if they become worse… I do not know if i can endure it.”

Her hand went to his chest. He looked at it and then he looked to her.

“You can.”

He realised something in that moment. He had thought that his feelings for her were mainly based on her beauty. There was no one who did not say something about how beautiful she was. The first thing he had noticed were her eyes back at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. But in that moment he realised what truly made his heart beat faster. The kindness in the eyes. The concern for everyone around her. How she could place others before herself. He knew from reports of screams from her cabin in Haven and her admission of part of her past that she had her own demons. He also knew Leliana had found evidence of the group on the border; evidence that they had left. She should be concerning herself with that, not his demons. But she showed more concern about those around her than for herself. It was evident in reports from the field also. With her by his side, in some form, he knew that his chances of achieving it were more favourable.

He exhaled and he felt all his concerns fade. She had stood and listened. Passing little judgement. She had listened.

“All right.”

He watched as a smile crawled on her face into a full beam. She stood on her toes and placed a kiss on his cheek. A green light emanated from her kiss and he felt his symptoms ease.

“You can do this Cullen.” She pulled away. “If anyone can I know it is you.”


	20. Chapter 20

“You shall be going to the ball!”

Josephine stood in the War Council room her arms outstretched in joy, as if she had bestowed a gift upon them all. Leliana stood nearby, a smirk dancing on her face waiting for the responses.

“Pardon?” Cullen was the first to cut in, arms folded.

“The ball!” Josephine looked around, the joy in her eyes clear. “The Duchess is holding a ball in honour of the Empress, and during there shall be peace talks.”

“A perfect opportunity for an assassin to strike.” Leliana added.

“Yes, but why do we have to attend? Surely we have enough influence now, to send a few troops with a warning.”

“Not enough.” Leliana shook her head. “I have met the Empress once; even with the threat of her life she would not stop to proceedings. It is the perfect cover because she needs peace.”

“With the Inquisitor there however, our influence shall increase and we can ensure that it does not happen.” Josephine nodded at them, as she scribbled on her notepad.

“This is ridiculous.” Cullen grumbled.

“We need to practice in the game. The court is skilled, and we can not risk exposure or loosing influence.”

“Politics.” Cullen grumbled once more shaking his head.

“With a noble Inquisitor we have a fighting chance.” Josephine beamed.

“Wait.” 

Pandora had remained silent, just watching and listening. But she had to interject now.

“You do realise the last time I was at a ball was when I was locked in the dungeons for a couple of days and then sent to the circle?” She stared at her advisors. “Do you know what happened?”

Leliana began to chuckle. “I do.”

“I conjured a storm in the middle of the ballroom and then I vomited everywhere.” She shuddered. She remembered the faces of the horrified nobles around her. “I am hardly an experience hand at this kind of thing.”

“We have a few days.” Josephine shrugged. “And you have an air about you, you have noble knowledge as well as the arcane. It will hardly be a challenge.”

*****

“Chin up darling!” 

“Vivienne… this is… how will this help?”

Pandora stood on the steps to the battlements, slightly obscured from the rest of Skyhold. On her head were a stack of heavy books, balancing precauriusly. 

“A good posture can solve most of the potential problems you may face, my dear.” Vivienne stood at the bottom of the stairs looking on at her protege. “Carry yourself like a noble, and the leader of the Inquistion and our battle is half won.”

Pandora tilted her chin up, back straight and began to walk down the stairs. Her heart skipped a few beats. She could not see the steps to direct her footing and she felt as though she were falling.

“Rememeber sister. Grace and elegance, grace and elegance.” Eduard chimed from the bottom of the stairs. As he said the words he raised his arms up and down, before swooping low to a bow.

Vivienne clicked her tongue. “Why are you here?”

Eduard shrugged. “I was told to assist my sister in the ways of noble charms.”

He had returned from the Frostbacks the day before and had laughed heartily upon the discovery of Pandora attending a ball as grand as the one at Halamshiral.

“Ah yes, because your charms are indeed so legendary.” Dorian rolled his eyes and picked a leaf off the page of his book. Eduard grinned and nudged him slightly. A small smile cracked at the edges of Dorians lips and eyes.

“And why are you here?” Vivienne folded her arms.

“Entertainment.”

Their attention was grabbed by a sharp cry and sound of books crashing around. Pandora had missed a step on the stairs and had fallen.

Vivienne sighed and flicked her wrist, sending the books into a neat pile on the ledge.

“And what about the rest of you?”

Varric laughed, mentioning he needed inspiration for his book, Sera made no sense to Vivienne and Iron Bull looked slightly sheepish when he admitted it looked like fun. Vivienne massaged her temple. They had little time to get the Circle mage in good enough shape to be an adversary at the court. They had even tried to lure her into riding a horse, only to fail miserably when the horse ran away. It had not returned since, much to the displeasure of the Horse Master.

“Surely knowing the art of the game is more pressing than posture?” Pandora stood, wincing.

“All you need to know there, fairest, is not to say anything stupid.” Varric chuckled and scribbled something down in his journal.

“Fantastic words of wisdom Varric.” Pandora smiled that huge beaming smile.

“Just imagine it, as though every word you speak can infer a thousand and one separate meanings, which the nobles at Halamshiral shall try to exploit.” Dorian looked up and then flashed a wicked smile. “But instead of imagining it is the truth.”

Pandora sighed. Between balancing the books on her head, them trying to get her on a horse and a few of the dance practices Eduard and Dorian had shown her she was tired. Eduard could sense this on his sister.

“I think we have done enough for today. Madame?”

Vivienne nodded in agreement. “We still have much to do. Same again tomorrow.”

Pandora nodded.

“Tavern?” Eduard flashed a charming smile at those around.


	21. Chapter 21

“So this is the game.” Varric leant forwards over the tavern table, and the others gathered around listening closely.

“We take it in turns. You have to tell two truths and one lie. If we guess correct you drink, if we guess incorrect the person who guesses drinks.”

“So for example… I am a renowned mage in Tevinter, I am of noble birth and I eat babies to assist my magic abilities.” Dorian grinned.

“Well the lie is clearly the first statement.” Pan winked at him. Sera let out a loud chuckle.

“Drink up then clever clogs.” Dorian smirked.

“The game has not started yet.” Pandora retorted, but she still had a sip.

“This could get real messy.” Eduard sighed. “I like the sound of it.”

“That is the whole point.” Varric mused.

“Although is it fair that the spymaster plays?” Iron Bull raised an eyebrow at the red head next to him. “Surely you know all the secrets about our little band?”

Leliana folded her arms. “You will be surprised. I am sure some secrets will come out the longer we play this game.”

“I shall begin then.” Varric stretched out his neck and looked at each person in the eye.

“Oh building suspense. I like it.” Eduard chuckled.

“I was born in Kirkwall, I am the Count of Kirkwall and I am the youngest song in the Tethras family.” He smirked and leant back.

“Well… you were born in Kirkwall. So that is a truth.” Pandora spoke first.

“I should know this!” Eduard lamented. “I lived in Kirkwall for so long… You don’t seem like the youngest child, more like the middle… and I swear you actually are a Count. The last is the lie.”

“Poor game, Charming.” Varric chuckled. “Drink up! I am the youngest son, my brother is the head of the family and runs the business. But I am a Viscount of Kirkwall… not the Count.”

“Shit.” Eduard muttered, drinking his mead.

“Your turn now Charming.”

“Right…”

Just as he was about to speak, Cullen walked into the Tavern. A hush fell over the table as they turned to see him walk in. It was rare that he would come to the Tavern. Behind him was Cassandra, who seemed to have a triumphant smile on her face.

“I heard of a gathering and so I thought we could impose.” Cassandra spoke out. “Do you mind if we join?”

A look seemed to flash between her and Leliana. 

“Not at all Seeker!” Varric stood and brandished to some free stools. “The more the merrier.”

Cullen sat down at the table. He was unsure how Cassandra had convinced him to go to the Tavern, but he supposed it was a welcome break from the reports on his desk. 

“We are playing a game.” Iron Bull chimed up. “You have to tell two truths and one lie. It is Eduard's turn.”

“Ready for some noble prissy shit nonsense.” Sera guffawed. 

“Not at all actually.” Eduard mocked offence. “Right so… On the voyage to Kirkwall I fell over board and met a sea creature that saved my life by throwing me back on ship.”

“Bollocks!” Iron Bull roared in laughter.

“Wait, I haven’t finished! I only passed Templar training because I was romancing the instructor and I once defaced a family portrait in the manor house.”

Pandora began to laugh loudly. “The third one is a truth! I remember that! You drew a slight monobrow on Lady Trevelyan and your sisters on the main portrait, but they never noticed.”

“Which considering how vain they are was and is a miracle.”

“I was furious, because I was certain if they found out they would blame me.” 

“They still haven’t.” Eduard flashed his charming smile.

“Romancing the instructor seems pretty likely for you.” Dorian spoke up.

“I still call bollocks on the sea creature tale.” Iron Bull laughed.

“Commander, did he romance his instructor in training?”

Cullen thought for a moment. “I would have little idea. I did not train with Eduard, I first met him in Kirkwall where he was first deployed. Training is very strict, I would imagine it hard to fake a pass.”

Eduard winked. “Come on Cullen, you know what I am capable of.”

“Do I though?” Cullen raised an amused eyebrow.

“You are his sister.” Dorian turned to Pan. “What do you think?”

“The Sea creature boss. Pure bollocks.”

“I agree with Bull.” Pan nodded.

Eduard made to look found out and rose the mead to his lips, before flashing a devilish smile. “The instructor was the lie.”

“What? No way!” Iron Bull leant forwards, hitting the table slightly.

Eduard nodded. “I passed all my Templar training with no charming involved. Even reciting the chants.”

“You fell overboard a ship and a sea creature saved your life?” Cassandra looked slightly disapproving at Eduard.

“Certainly, my Lady Seeker.” He winked. 

“Now this should make for an interesting tale.” Leliana folded her hands to rest her chin on them.

“Picture this. It is a stormy crossing and this does not agree with my stomach. I take to the deck to… er… get rid of my dinner. When all of a sudden, the ship lists to the left and hits a huge wave. It knocks me from the deck and I fall into the water. But lo and behold as I hit the water this creature emerges forth just at the right time and place, knocking me back upwards and onto the deck.”

Silence fell across the table.

“That is the dumbest story I have ever heard.” Dorian cut through the silence.

"Are you sure it wasn't a dream?" Leliana cooed.

“It is the truth. Luck and coincidence. If it were not for that creature I would have been left in the water.” He then turned to Leliana. "And it was no dream. I returned dripping wet, to the shock of the other passengers."

“Not as nobly and prissy panty as expected.” Sera pipped in, swigging her mead.

“It is the truth. So now, you drink.” Eduard pointed at Pandora, Dorian and Bull.

They sighed and had a drink of their drinks.

“Bull your next.” Eduard grinned, triumphant.

“I once smashed a mans skull in my bare fingers…”

“Wow this took a morbid turn.” Eduard widened his eyes.

“I once fucked a mans wife in his own house…”

Cullen’s face turned a deep red, as everyone else burst into peels of laughter.

“I was kicked out of the Tamassrans for not eating my vegetables.”

Iron Bull nodded and sat back drinking some of his mead.

“I think people are getting the rules muddled…” Varric muttered. “You only drink if you get it wrong or get found out.”

“Hush Varric. Let them do as they wish.” Leliana leant in front of Bull to scold him. 

She wanted to see people get as drunk as possible. Even though she doubted the drink would affect Bull as it was Sera. She was already hiccuping slightly.

“What vegetables were these that you refused to eat?” Dorian asked.

Bull shrugged. “Some green shit.”

“Who was the women?” Cassandra asked.

“A lass from Orlais. We met in a Tavern and she invited me back. Little did I know she was married. Her husband chased me out the house, before I turned on him and he realised I was a Qun.” Iron Bull chuckled. “I felt sorry for him; it must not have been a nice experience. Few of my stories are romantic Seeker.”

He looked a little saddened at that.

“I could see you crushing a skull easily.” Pandora broke the silence.

Iron Bull grinned. “You think Boss?”

“It indeed would not be a difficult feat for you to achieve.” Cullen added.

“I think you refused your vegetables.” Pandora nodded, certain.

“Sorry to disappoint Boss. The lie was fucking the lass in her husbands house. It was in the barn.”

“Oh come on!” Pandora laughed, taking a sip. "Hardly fair!"

Iron Bull shrugged. “Minor details.”

“You actually were kicked out for not eating your vegetables?” Cullen asked, still disbelieving.

“Sure was. They thought I would make a poor solider, as I had shown disobedience. Instead I was put into the Ben Hassrath.”

"The skull?" Eduard chimed in.

Bull shrugged. "I was exploring with the Chargers when we stumbled across some skeletons. We had a competition."

"Ah that doesn't sound as dramatic as it first did. I thought you crushed a mans skull and killed him by doing that."

"I am sure I have done that." Bull shrugged his shoulders and downed his drink. "Another!"

“Your turn sister.” Eduard nudged her.

Pan scanned the table and settled her eyes on the flickering candle.

“I was quite the prankster in the circle as a young teen, so much so I once shaved the beard off Ser Garett while he slept on duty.”

“The Ser Garret?” Eduard pounded his hands on the table, disbelieving. “The legend himself, who fought for King Maric? No way would he sleep on duty.”

“I once got stuck in the between the bookshelves in the library in the circle, so much so that my mentor had to use all the soap available to help me slide out.”

“That is just silly.” Cassandra chuckled.

“And during my Harrowing, demons possessed rabbits, leading to an all out rabbit slaughter in the tower.”

“I thought you were meant to be some kind of genius in the Ostwick Circle.” Dorian chuckled. “Such a good picture of yourself you paint. Any of those as truths are fantastically ridiculous.”

“I have heard that your Harrowing was interesting.” Leliana mused.

“Possessing rabbits however?” Cullen seemed doubtful.

“Not entirely out of the question.” Dorian inspected his fingers. “If demons can possess mages, why not animals? They would put up less of a fight.”

“No way were you a prankster.” Eduard shook his head.

“Hey! She has helped me, pissy pants.” Sera brandished her drink at Eduard, slurring her words.

“Pissy pants?” Eduard crinkled his nose. 

“Pissy, prissy, pissy. Same difference.”

“I don’t have pissy pants.” He then turned to Pan. “Have you helped Sera in her pranks.”

She smiled. “Perhaps a few.”

“Who is this woman sat before me?” Eduard mocked intense shock. “Is this my sister or some one pretending to be her. First she pranks and now she is spending her time with th- OW!”

He turned to Dorian, who seemed to have kicked him under the table, stopping him mid sentence. Everyone looked around a little confused.

“Spending my time with what?”

Eduard looked everywhere but her, searching for the right words. Some of the others began to smirk, glancing at the Commander and the Inquisitor. 

“Spending her time with the ... cook… cooking really nice treats for everyone.”

“Is that you?” Cassandra asked, surprised. She had wondered who had been leaving her blueberry muffins at her desk.

Pan turned red and nodded. She had taken it upon herself to leave cakes and snacks people liked around Skyhold for them. Sera raised spirits with her pranks, but Pan realised that a few of her friends and companions needed something too. She left Cassandra blueberry muffins, Vivienne some fancy pastries she had made in Val Royeaux fashion, and Varric a pie. That was all she had managed to do so far.

Dorian cast Eduard a look. Eduard felt his heart beat faster as they shared a look. Eduard looked slightly abashed and he felt guilty for nearly saying what he was going to say. The Commander and his sister were trying to be discreet, even though it was blindingly obvious. Almost all of Skyhold knew. Most of the guards had taken to sneaking around the Battlements to try and assist the pair in their illusion that they were been secretive. 

“I think the lie is the bookshelves. It is too ridiculous not to be.” Cassandra folded her arms.

Some of the others nodded.

Pan shook her head. “The lie is about Ser Garrett. I tried to shave his beard but he caught me and made me clean the main hall of the Circle until it was spotless.”

She laughed. 

“Is that all?” Cullen was shocked. Such an act at Kirkwall would have led no doubt to being made a Tranquil.

Pandora nodded. “Ser Garret was the Templar who collected me from the Manor. He and most of the other Templar took really good care of us.”

“I have heard he was like a father figure to you am I correct?” Leliana tilted her head interested. She had tried to track down the legendary knight since she had found out about his connection to the Inquisitor but she had little luck.

“I suppose some would have said that. He got me a gift when I passed my Harrowing, a book.” It had been her favourite book. It had perished in the fire.

"It went up in flames. Pages burning and falling around me."

Everyone looked around to see Cole, sat at the table, staring at his hands.

"The Circle was on fire. How do I escape? I jump from the window. Falling, and falling. The pages burning and turning in the air."

"How long has he been there?" Eduard looked taken aback, jumping slightly. 

"Most of the time." Pandora said.

Cole shuffled his fingers, looking up at Pandora. She smiled. He flicked a faint one back at her.

“So… one of the brightest mages in Ostwick history, perhaps with more potential than Madame de Fer herself, had to be released from between bookshelves with soap?” Dorian coughed slightly, returning back to the original topic, not wanting to let the truths slide without explanation. 

“You know, we were stuck inside the tower, with very little to do. I used to study and eat a lot of pastries… my one weakness. I would climb the tower and dance with the other mages to keep healthy, but children begin to develop. I used to be able to fit in the spaces of the bookshelves, it meant I could avoid the crowds in the library. But one day… I couldn’t fit anymore.” She looked down at her chest. 

Soon everyone was staring at her chest.

“Will everyone stop looking at my sisters breasts?” Eduard folded his arms.

Cullen felt a blush rise in his cheeks and he cleared his throat and looked up. A moment of silence followed, a few people rose their drink to their lips.

"She has nice looking breasts." Iron Bull muttered through his drink. Eduard cast a look at Iron Bull.

Leliana suppressed a chuckle.

“Demons possessing rabbits?” Cullen broke the silence. He rose an eyebrow in amusement. Although he doubted it was not amusing at the time.

“First Enchanter Ines was so shocked. My Harrowing was flawless, apart from the fact that a rabbit appeared during the ritual. For some other reason, one of the Enchanters had lettuce on his person and they all got distracted…”

They all roared with laughter as she continued the tale about her Harrowing. 

"Those poor rabbits." Cole muttered, he then looked around. "I am glad everyone is happy. The warmth of friendship."

But only a few truly heard him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://archiveofourown.org/works/3427517?view_full_work=true
> 
> Ever since I read this, I have made it the canon Harrowing story for Trevelyan. It is just perfect and so funny! I highly recommend it!


	22. Chapter 22

All eyes were on her. Everyone was watching as the Inquisitor made her way through the ball to be announced. A hush fell upon Halamshiral, the nobles continuing their gossip about her in hurried whispers. They were intrigued by the bastard Trevelyan, a little scared of her magic but enthralled by her supposed beauty. The masked nobles were not disappointed. 

Josephine had played the game well. She knew to take advantage of the rumours of Pandora Trevelyan's almost ethereal beauty and Leliana had done little to suppress the rumours.

Pan had paled upon seeing the attire for the evening. They had met in a makeshift War Room en route to Halamshiral. The outfits were stood in the tent with them.

“This is a joke?”

“What do you mean?”

Pan felt a little ashamed, she did not want to offend Josephine who had clearly put a lot of thought and effort into the dress.

“It is armour.” Cullen pointed out. “If anything were to happen you are protected.”

“Oh Josie you listened! Look at the shoes.” Leliana cooed over her own outfit clearly happy with her elegant dress and shoes. 

“Some of it is armoured yes.” Pan agreed, folding her arms to walk over to the outfit. “But what about this bit?”

She brandished around the breast area, which was largely uncovered.

Cullen turned his eyes away, feeling his cheeks redden.

“Do you not like it?” Josephine pouted.

“Josie… I love it. I really do. It is so beautiful… but the chest, I-“

She bit her lip.

“Pan. You need more confidence. Gumption.” 

On hearing that word, Pandora knew that Vivienne had no doubt had some say in her attire for the evening.

Josephine stood next to her and gave her a tight squeeze.

“You will be fantastic.”

Pan shook herself to focus on the present. She reached the stairs, leading down to the main dance floor. She rested her bejewelled hand on the banister. All eyes were no doubt on her now. She could feel them. 

She wore a dress of silken white, open at the front meaning she still was able to run if needs be. The dress left a train of fabric behind her, and the fabric glittered in the faint light of the ball, golden patterns embroidered on the white silk. White boots reached to her thighs, disguising some of the weapons hidden within. She was thankful that her legs were covered with grey fabric; she would have refused the dress if her legs were left bare. Perhaps Josie and Vivienne knew that would have been the case.

The most beautiful part she thought was the corset of metal plating around her torso. It was made from rose gold, and it was so delicately arranged, patterned in arabesque swirls. It was armour but crafted in a way that meant it resembled fabric. Yet this served to make her chest area look enlarged, her cleavage spilled out from the dress, in a refined manner and certainly not as vulgar as some of the other nobles, but she felt uncomfortable showing off so much of her skin. And her cleavage. Upon her face was a mask, made from similar rose gold and patterns as the bodice. It hid most of her face, only her mouth area and eyes were on show. They shone violet in the light of the ball.

With her held high and back straight, she carried herself down the stairs, almost floating. She was a picture of calm on the outside, but a mess inside. All she could remember was falling down the stairs at Skyhold.

"Presenting, Grand Duke Gaspard."

Stood at the bottom, waiting for her were her Advisors stood in line but also Duke Gaspard. She was his guest to the ball. As he was announced he swooped low with theatrics for the ball guests and the Empress. He cast the briefest of glances to the three stood behind him. Josephine and Leliana in two beautiful ball gowns and the Commander in military regalia, their own masks glinting in the light. They were watching every move of the Grand Duke. Closely.

“And accompanying him, Lady Inquisitor Pandora Trevelyan. Daughter of the late Bann Trevelyan of Ostwick.”

She reached the bottom and took Gaspard's hand as was required. He kissed her hand in front of the audience and looked up to her with a smile. She suppressed a shiver. She turned to the Empress and curtsied low to the ground, inclining her head. The Empress returned the head gesture.

Arm in arm the Duke and Inquisitor walked down the main dance floor.

“You look ravishing tonight Lady Inquisitor.” Gaspard admired, staring at her chest.

She tilted her head. “Thank you Duke. You also are very dashing in your attire. Befitting such a celebrated warrior.”

She tasted the lies on her tongue, but he seemed to believe her. Or at least pretended to.

“Is this your first time to Orlais?”

“Not my first time. However it is to such a beautiful place as Halamshiral.”

Gaspard nodded. He knew very well that it was not her first time in the Empire. Pan sensed some ulterior motive. Upon that realisation she recalled why she had hated the few balls she went to as a child. She had always been the centre of intrigue. Gossip. Snide remarks.

“Halamshiral is a jewel in the empire, without a doubt. I ask, as I am aware that you have some lineage in Orlais am I correct?”

Josie had warned her that some people might pry into her family.

“You are not mistaken, Grand Duke.”

“Certainly it is very interesting, no? It adds to your air Inquisitor. A mysterious beautiful mage, perhaps with a powerful link here in the Empire.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

Gaspard shrugged. “Depending on who your mother is, you could find yourself inheriting a title.”

She could tell those words were loaded with hidden meanings, testing her but also hinting at something else.

“My title is the Inquisitor, dear Duke.” She tried to think how Vivienne would react. “I wish for no other greater honour. Especially as it means I am able to be an esteemed guest of the legendary military hero of the Empire.”

Gaspard smiled. They had reached the end of the ballroom.

“You flatter me too much, Lady Inqusitor.” He bowed to her and kissed her hand once more, lingering perhaps too long on her skin. “It is me, who has the honour tonight. With your powerful voice at my side as support. No one can take their eyes off you. Off us.”

He brandished around with a sly smile. She noted that people were watching, closely. 

"It is with a heavy heart, I leave you here." He bowed. "Yet perhaps we could dance later in the evening?"

"You honour me, Grand Duke." 

She watched as he departed. She heaved a sigh.

“Well done, Pandora.” Josie came behind her and squeezed her arm reassuringly. 

“I have a headache already. This is too much.” Pan sighed. It was difficult keeping alert and watching her words.

“What did the Duke have to say?”

Leliana and Cullen joined them. Pan glanced at the Commander. He looked handsome in his military uniform; it was a deep royal blue and his hair looked more groomed than usual. His mask was relatively plain, but it seemed to highlight the copper in his eyes. He folded his arms and frowned slightly. The scar on his lip caught her eye and she found herself thinking about kissing those lips; but she shook herself. This was no place for fairytale gestures. 

Cullen watched the Duke walk away. He had felt a sting of jealously as the Duke walked with the Inquisitor and ignored the urge to throw him away from her when looked at her coming down the stairs. He looked at her like a piece of meat and it made his skin crawl, as did most of the guests at the ball. They knew nothing of the person she was.

“Apart from his many compliments, he mentioned my mother.”

“Oh really?” Leliana folded her arms. “Quicker than I expected. But we saw this coming. What did he say?”

“That perhaps I have some birth right in the Empire.” She frowned.

“That is not out of the question.” Josie mused. 

“Why would he bring that up here?” Pandora felt on edge.

“To try and disarm you.” Leliana narrowed her eyes. “Or distract us from the main task at hand.”

Pan nodded. “I am going to find the others and see if they have spotted anything. Keep your eyes open.”

The advisors nodded and turned to leave, but Cullen remained behind.

“Be careful.” He warned, glancing around at the nobles. “This place is a hot bed of lies, deceit and backstabbing. We can support you as best as we can, but for most of it you will be alone.”

“I will be careful.” She flashed a smile. “You be careful too, Commander.”

With that she spun, the white of the trail of her dress floated around her as she made her way to find her companions. She did not even dare to touch or smile at the Commander, afraid to give anything away to these nobles. Dorian and Iron Bull no doubt were near the food and Cullen was surprised to see Sera watching the dancing in the ball room. He noted that she seemed to be tapping her foot a smile on her face, no doubt pleased by her prank pulled in the announcements.

*****

“You have some fine muscles Commander, you seem a very strong man.”

“Not just his arms, but his body in general.”

"I would love to see you in action Commander. Such power."

“Hmm, let us see…”

Cullen jumped. He had endured their gossiping and crowding around him for most of the evening. They had asked for numerous dances, they had asked for hands in marriage and he had endured that. But as one of the nobles stroked his rear and then dig in, he felt himself snap a little.

“Did… you just touch my bottom?” He stared down at the noble.

The man shuffled on his feet and looked guilty to the floor. “Yes.”

“Why-?” Cullen stopped himself and shook his head. Even with this hoard of seemingly harmless admirers he had to be careful. This was the Grand Game. 

“Commander Cullen.”

Her voice cut through the throng and he turned, relieved to see a friendly face. The Inquisitor stood just on the edge of the crowd gathered around him. 

“Excuse me kind sirs and ladies, but may I take the Commander away from you for just a minute?” 

The nobles around him parted, nodding eagerly. Pandora was doing well in the court, she had earned respect from a lot of the nobles even with a shaky start and leaving the party for short bursts of time.

“Indeed Lady Inquisitor. We would not want to keep him from you. But bring him back!” One of the nobles bowed low.

She smiled and inclined her head. Cullen dashed through the opening created and followed Pandora to a quieter spot away from too many prying eyes and ears.

“By the maker, this place is intolerable.” Cullen groaned. 

“You certainly have gathered a crowd of admirers.”

“I know. They won’t leave me alone. They keep asking me questions and touching me.” He pulled a face, just about managing to suppress a shiver.

“Do you not enjoy the attention?”

“The only attention I desire is from you.” He had meant to say is quietly and not be heard, or not say it all. 

He felt heat rise in his cheeks as the words escaped. He flashed a look to Pan. Her smile had grown even wider than usual. He swallowed and looked away. 

“I don’t suppose you could save me a dance for me, Commander?”

“Thank you, but no.”

“Oh.”

Pandora looked a little hurt and he suddenly realised what he had said.

“No! I didn’t mean- makers breath I have been asked that question so many times I am rejecting it automatically. I am not one for dancing. Templars never attended balls.”

She nodded slowly, as if processing the information.

“Keep an eye open.” Pan looked around and sighed. “Everything here is convoluted and I do not understand… we went into the servants quarters and it was carnage.”

Cullen folded his arms, frowning slightly. He was concerned for her. “That is the Grand Game. I cannot abide it. What happened down there?”

She shook her head and looked down. “Death. Finding the assassin is proving harder than I thought."

“Indeed. But if anyone can do it, it is you Pandora.”

“Thank you.” She murmured. Then she smiled. “I better get back to the ball… and return you to your admirers.”

*****

Cullen pushed through the throng in the ballroom. He had left his mask discarded some time ago. Everyone was talking about it. How the Inquisitor had upstaged the Grand Duchess, and saved the Empress. Pandora was the Belle of the ball, no doubt the centre of court intrigue for some time in the future.

His eyes were focused on the tired looking woman leaning over the balcony outside. As he reached the double doors leading into the refreshing breeze, he moved sidewards to make way for the dark haired woman. They locked eyes and Cullen remembered her. From Kinloch hold. She had once accompanied the Hero of Ferelden. He frowned and shook his self. He moved towards the woman. Pandora was stood her mask hanging in her hands over the balcony.

"There you! Everyone has been looking for you."

He leant next to her and looked to her profile. She stared ahead at the gardens below and the stars in the sky.

"Things have calmed down for the moment. Although I doubt this night will be forgotten quickly. Are you alright?"

She looked tired. Cullen wondered if the mask had hidden the dark circles beneath her eyes or if they had developed over the course of the night.

"I am just worn out. Tonight has been... long." She chuckled. "I supposed I am cursed to go to tiring and eventful balls."

"I am glad it is over." 

Cullen nodded and turned his body so he could see her and speak to her easier. He placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing slightly. His heart beat a little faster as her hand went to his gloved one, to give a few strokes, before falling back to the banister. He found himself not caring who could see this interaction. Let them look.

"I know this seems foolish. You are more than capable. But I was worried for you tonight. You expressed concerns about balls, and I was worried... well that it might bring back bad memories about the past."

Pandora turned her head in surprised.

"No worry that I might fail?"

"You will never fail." Cullen was sure of his words. He waited.

She released a sigh and turned her head up to the sky. "Despite some of the hardships of tonight, this ball was miles better than my last. Even though it was with that woman, I even got a dance."

Cullen curled his lips into a smile as laughter drifted from the ball behind them. The night was still going.

"I might never get another chance like this, so I must ask."

His hand fell from her shoulder as he moved behind her. She turned slightly from the banister and looked a little taken aback as he bowed, holding out his hand. 

"May I have this dance my lady?"

Pandora smiled. The biggest and most genuine smile she had made that evening. She took his hand and he pulled her close to him.

"Of course. I thought you didn't dance."

He smelt of perfumes, dark woods and warm spices mixed with his natural smell. She smiled finding it comforting as he pulled her into a private waltz on the balcony. Just them alone.

"For you, I'll try."


	23. Chapter 23

“So this book…”

“Clearly it has something to do with the previous inhabitants of Skyhold.”

"Clearly magic."

The mages stood in the room of cobwebs, surveying the hug dusty book open in the centre. Its pages were full of strange symbols and images, an ominous glow emanating from it. Solas stood closest, intrigue clear on his face as he circled the great desk with the grimoire upon it.

“Potentially dark magic, we should show caution.” Vivienne sighed, her brown knitted in concern.

“Dark magic is naught. All can be controlled if understood.” Morrigan touched the great desk, her face full of wonder.

“Unless it is Blood Magic.” Dorian held his chin in his hand, frowning at the large book. “Why did you call us down, Pandora?”

Pan had her arms folded across her chest, staring at the contents of the room. She stood as though she were mediating between the cautious mages stood back and the curious mages who were closer.

“I stumbled across this exploring and I thought it best to get some experienced views. Apart from my own.”

“So, what is that you think Inquisitor?” Solas turned, his arms behind his back, a quizzical look on his face.

“…A large glowing Grimoire.”

“Well anyone can see that!” Dorian chuckled.

“I think it is elven. Or at least parts of it is.”

“What makes you think that?” Solas rose an eyebrow.

“The words… some are in elven others are words I have never seen before.”

“You can read elven?” Vivienne inquired.

“A little.” Pandora admitted. 

“Full of more surprises.” Dorian quipped. "Although I do agree. I can not understand the writing upon those pages; elven seems to be a fair assumption from my viewpoint."

“There are pages about mirrors.” Pandora scowled at the book, not venturing near it.

Morrigan and Solas turned at the mention of mirrors.

“What is your problem with mirrors darling?” Vivienne placed a long finger on her cheek, staring at the young mage.

“Well…” She floundered. “Lady Trevelyan never liked me having one. The habit sort of stuck.”

“You mean she would sometimes smash them in front of you with rage?” Eduard frowned. He stood well back, watching the mages with a Templars eye. Vivienne was not one to take risks.

Cullen grunted in discomfort from his side. He didn't want to think of what those words meant for Pandora. Vivienne was not one to let a room full of experienced mages go without the proper protection and safeguards.

“Smash them in front of you?” Dorian looked shocked.

“More like sometimes into her.” Eduard frowned.

Cullen felt the rage build, but he pushed it away. Getting angry would not help anything or anyone.

“It was nothing.” Pandora tried to brush it away.

“It was everything.” Eduard retorted. “And I never stopped it.”

Cullen looked at his Second in Command. Eduard seemed to be portraying the anger that Cullen was burying. He frowned, as this was uncharacteristic for him.

“It is fine, it is-“

“No it isn’t fine.” Eduard all but exploded. “Stop making excuses for her terrible actions.”

Dorian tilted his head over to Eduard and frowned. Eduard looked away a little abashed.

“And I thought I had problems with my mother.” Morrigan folded her arms, a small smile creeping across her face. “Clearly, my upbringing in the wilds is not nearly as wild as that of an unloved bastard noble.”

“You are correct however.” Solas interrupted the diversion. “This grimoire does mention mirrors. An ancient elven seeing glass. Eluvians.”

“Ah. Yes.” Dorian snapped his fingers. “I have heard of that. My masters in Tevinter looked into recreating these as a method of sending messages." 

"They failed.” He added with a half chuckle.

“Yet the rest of the pages are either faded or make little sense.” Solas turned the page cautiously. “Would you like me to further study this?”

Pandora nodded. “Yes, it may be linked in some way.”

“What do you mean?” Cullen frowned.

“Mirrors of seeing. Perhaps this is how Corypheus gains his allies, or plans his actions…” Pandora shrugged. “Or we could use it to gain the upper hand.”

“It would not harm our cause.” Solas nodded.

Vivienne frowned. “I dislike this type of magic. It could be our undoing.”

“It could be our undoing if we do not explore and understand.” Dorian pointed out. 

“Indeed.” Morrigan seemed deep in thought.

“So what about the glow?” Eduard frowned. “You asked for us here, surely you do not wish for this source of magic to remain unguarded.”

Pandora shook her head. “Place someone here at all times.”

“To ere on the side of caution.” Morrigan mused. With that she turned and left the room.

“Is often the mark of clear thinking.” Vivienne smiled, squeezing Pans shoulder. She too left the room.

Slowly the room emptied, Dorian and Eduard leaving together. It was just Cullen, Solas and Pandora left. 

“I will remain until Eduard sends down the guard.” Cullen sighed.

Pandora frowned, looking a little concerned. “Are you sure?”

Cullen nodded.

Solas strolled around the grimoire, clearly intrigued. 

“Ah, before I forget.” He looked to Pandora. “How are your dreams Inquisitor?”

“Pardon?” Pan looked taken aback.

“Your dreams.” He repeated. “You are one of the loudest dreamers in the Inquisition. When you do dream.”

Pan blinked. “Well… they are fine.”

She felt uncomfortable. She could feel Cullens eyes bore into her, with concern and also questioning.

Solas shrugged. “I am here to offer assistance. I once showed you the power of dreams. I doubt the remedies of the apothecary are working as well as you hoped.”

Now Pandora felt really uncomfortable. She felt Cullens gaze even more on her neck, as her hairs stood on end. The dark circles had gotten more noticeable and her dreams so much more active that she had sought the aid of herbal remedies. To little effect.

“Thank you Solas.” She mumbled. She shuffled and bowed her head. “Excuse me.”

She left the room as quick as she could, but a hand grabbed her upper arm.

“Inquisitor. Pandora!”

They stood in the dark corridor. Solas left alone in the strange room. They were alone together, and almost touching nose to nose. She gasped and stepped back a little. Cullen gulped, his face full of concern and annoyance.

“Is everything alright?”

Pandora glanced down.

“Yes.”

“Don’t lie, or put on a brave face. Not with me.”

They had shared a dance at Halamshiral. In that moment, despite the labour of the ball, the effort she had exerted to stop the assassin, she felt at peace. Wrapped in his strong arms. He had stood on her toes a few times, much to his embarrassment but it only made her chuckle. On the journey back to Skyhold, they had spent most of the nights in the camp together, either reading or playing chess in the makeshift tent rooms. Despite her dreams worsening, and her tiredness growing it offered her relief. They had grown closer through those seemingly meaningless interactions also.

“Pandora.”

His finger stroked her chin. She exhaled softly and looked into his copper eyes.

“Please. I can help.”

“I am fine Cullen.” Pandora wanted him to believe her lie. “I am just taking a draught before bed to assist in my sleep.”

He looked into her eyes and saw the lie. But he also knew she would not tell him the truth, at least not yet. He gave in. He leant in and kissed her cheek. It sent a shiver down her spine. A shiver of pleasure. She loved his touch. They had only ever kissed, that was enough.

“If you say so.”

She laughed. “I do! Anyway, please excuse me Commander. I have to meet a friend of Varrics on the battlements.”

“You know if it is who I think it is… Cassandra will kill him.”

Pandora winked. “No she won’t. She is waiting for him to release his latest instalment of romance novels.”

Cullen laughed.

“Don’t underestimate Cassandra.”

“I would never dream of it!” Pandora smiled.

Cullen returned to the room and watched Solas closely.

"What did you mean by her dreams are among the loudest?"

"I sometimes hear and see her dreams in my own slumber." Solas stated matter of factly. "However, many here have loud dreams. Mostly of Haven. Yours are also particularly loud at times."

Cullen cleared his throat a little uncomfortable. "How so?"

"You dream of Kinloch and the nightmares they demons gave you. The days of torture. But then also to Kirkwall your mind wanders." Solas frowned. "I do not mean to pry, but your images sometimes travel into my own."

Cullen hesitated, unsure about the magic involved in such a feat. "And the Inquisitor?"

"When she does sleep, they are the loudest." Solas looked at the grimoire. "If you are concerned ask her yourself."

"Why would I do that...?" Cullen stammered, feeling hot under his collar. Did Solas know about them?

The elf looked up at him with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. "You are the Commander. The wellbeing of the Inquisitor is surely on your list of concerns."

"Ah yes..." Cullen rubbed his neck.

"Yet perhaps it is your heart that rules in this area..." Solas mumbled.

"Pardon?" Cullen strained to hear him.

"Oh. Nothing. I was just talking to myself about this grimoire." He blew at the pages, dust swirling into the room.

******

Cullen,

Crestwood is by far one of the worst places I have visited thus far. We managed to empty the lake, to explore Old Crestwood only to discover the mayor purposefully flooded it during the Blight. He has since fled and we must search for him to dispense justice.

We rendezvoused withe Hawke near the smugglers cave and our contact was non other than the Alistair, who fought with the Hero of Ferelden! He has offered to help us. He was investigating if Corypheus could survive wounds like an Archdemon. But the Grey Wardens began to hear something known as the Calling. All of them are hearing it. It beckons them to death. Alistair thinks this is Corypheus’s doing. The Warden Commander Clarel is supposedly in the Western Approach and she has branded Alistair a traitor for opposing her plan to end all Blights before they can begin. I know what kind of magic that would take. Blood Magic. It should not be allowed to happen, it would only spell destruction for those involved. 

I have asked if Grey Warden Tabris would be able to assist our cause, yet Alistair says she is on a special mission, to try and end the calling. It might be worth asking Leliana to track her down. I have already sent her the message.

Also as I wrote the first part of this message in Crestwood, the strangest thing happened. My raven went missing when Haven was attacked. I thought her as dead or now roaming free. But she found me… here! 

These ravens must possess some magic! We will return within the week, however Alistair is already heading for the Western Approach. We will return to Skyhold only to restock for a few days, and then set out to investigate the Western Approach. Dorian is content that we have taken out more Venatori.

I await my return to Skyhold. See you soon,

Pandora.

Pandora 

I have sent troops to find the whereabouts of this Mayor. That indeed sounds like a troubling turn of events. Since your departure Solas has been studying that room with some earnest. He is very knowledgeable, but Madame du Fer has come to me numerous times expressing her concerns about how safe it is. I think the only person who could console her would be you, if you have any time please may you try and ease her concern?

I have also located the Lord Seeker, you mentioned previously that Lady Cassandra help some misgivings over what transpired in Val Royeaux. When you are ready the forces will accompany you to investigate.

That is troubling news. I do hope Warden Commander Clarel is aware of the risks. Perhaps the Wardens are under the influence of Corypheus? I remember Alistair and Warden Tabris. They freed me from the clutches of the demon in Kinloch... I was... not too kind to them. Or their companions. It is shameful to think of how I acted towards them. She will surely place her best agent on the mission or go herself. Leliana was very close to Warden Tabris. 

That is good news! That raven has served you well to find you all the way in Crestwood. I shall make the necessary preparations. You have already scouted part of the region, so your journey back to the Approach should be easier than last time.

Come back well and safe,  
Maker watch over you.

Cullen.


	24. Chapter 24

“You just had to find a way to ruin everything didn’t you?”

She could barely think, her mind was racing attempting to process everything that had happened. It was a struggle to think clearly, with Lady Trevelyan’s hand clenched in her hair, dragging her along the hall way a hundred mirrors reflecting the scene back at her. Over and over. The small girl with sky blue eyes and light brown skin in the clutches of the woman. Lady Trevelyan would have been pretty, if not for her sour face and small upturned nose. She looked regal in her ball gown and smelt heavily of roses. Pandora hated the smell. The scent announced her arrival and permeated into everything.

“After everything I have done for you. I let you stay here, when I could have demanded you out this house. After your mother abandoned you, your whore mother.”

Pandora frowned as she spotted someone in the mirror, not part of the scene. A male elf peered sadly out form the mirror, watching closely. She locked eyes with him, begging him to help but he shook his head before the mirror went out of sight.

She was dragged down the stairs, down into the darkness only lit by a few torches.

Tears streamed down her face, hiccups now the only sound she was able to make, screaming or wailing no longer coming form her.

Usually she never made her disdain clear in front of company, especially the Bann. But as the storm raged in the main hall, everyone turned with fear towards the young girl, covered in vomit from overindulgence in the pastries and sparks flying form her. 

Magic. Demons. Abominations.

Her father had said little to stop her from being dragged away from the ballroom, only holding her brother back who kicked and screamed. Lady Trevelyan did little to put on the usual airs.

“Get in there.”

She heard the door to a cell creak open, and she felt the coldness, could only see a dim light in the darkness. She was flung face first into the cell, and she stumbled falling onto the cold harsh stone, cutting herself. A huge snot bubble popped form her nose, as another hiccuped sob escaped her lips.

The barred door was pushed shut, Lady Trevelyan staring down with a grin and malice.

“Look at you. A dirty little bastard. No one loves you. Even your mother knew you were a mistake, giving you away. That is all you are, a dirty mistake.” Her elegant fingers turned the key in the door. “Now you shall suffer for all you have done to me and my daughters.”

With that she turned, placing the sobbing young girl from her mind and walked back into the light.

Pan curled herself into a ball, and sat alone in the cold darkness, wondering what she had ever done to them to cause so much hate. Someone would come and get her, they could not just leave her down there. She closed her eyes.

She felt the heat of fire, an orange glow filled her eyelids.

She opened her eyes, to no fire. When she opened them she was somewhere different, still in cold darkness but it wasn’t a cell. She was stood in a cave, torches dancing along the walls only casting an evil orange glow. She looked down at her hands, realising they were covered in blood. There was still no where to run. Or hide.

“P-please.” She felt a tug at her black robes. She looked down, horrified at the sight of an old woman covered in blood, pale from pain. “Help me.”

She wanted to help. She wanted to save her. But she couldn’t move.

“Cut out her tongue.”

The command cut through Pandora. As soon as the words were said, she bent down to the woman, watching as a hope and fear danced in her eyes. She reached her hand into the womans’ mouth who began to scream as she brought the knife slicing through.

The woman howled in a muffed cry of agony, clutching at her mouth now streaming blood, as Pandora straightened looking at the tongue in her hand. Inside she was screaming too, she could see everything happening, an audience member to a horrific show. It was like the person doing this was not her. She had to obey. She couldn’t not obey.

But her face was emotionless. The blood pooled below her and she glanced down. Her reflection peered back. She was paler than she should be, that was clear even in the blood red pool. Now purple eyes void of emotion and light. Dimness the sign of mind control.

“End her.”

He appeared at her side, grinning down at the old woman on the floor, the blood seeping from her towards him. It snaked around him, in a beautiful morbid dance as the power poured into him, making his words cut deeper. 

“End her with your sparks.”

Pandora rose her hand, electricity coursing through her as she sent it towards the woman who screamed once more as she was fried alive by the sparks, convulsing well after her heart stopped beating, steam rising from her.

“Look at your hand.”

She did as she was told. Her hand with the tongue still clenched there. Shock didn't show in her emotionless face but inside fear took hold. Her clenched hand was slightly clawed, dark in colour. Almost like…

“An abomination. Interesting. You are interesting.”

 

*****

She sat upright with a gasp. She looked around breathing heavily. Where was she? Her vision was blurred. Pandora began to cough, and she moved a shaking hand to her face. Tears streamed down her cheeks as her heart beat pounded in her chest. It felt like her chest was caving in. She wiped the tears from her eyes and leant her head against something. She blinked as she stared up at a stone ceiling. 

She had fallen asleep in the library in her spot on the floor with the cushions. She had wandered down in her night dress and robes, sneaking through the quiet halls to grab a book from the collections. She looked around, the candles had dimmed, burning low and the evening had faded to night. 

She felt her forehead and frowned. She was soaked in sweat. She looked at her hand, and let out a yelp. Her finger nails were like claws. Dark claws.

She stood, stumbling into the bookshelf, knocking books from their place. She clutched at her hand, staring down at it, shaking. 

Panic rose through her and her breathing sped up. She blinked, again and again, willing it go away, willing it to be part of the dream. Her vision pulsated as she stared at her arm in terror. The clawed thing was shaking despite the efforts by her hand with the anchor to keep it steady. The hand that glowed green and sometimes caused her pain, was now her normal hand. 

She swallowed and slowed her breathing, looking around frantically. She moved to the edge of the balcony, looking down to the room below. Beautiful murals were painted on the walls. Solas would know what to do… or at least would not condemn her or at least would tell her it was part of her imagination, part of her flashbacks. 

Pandora leapt over the railings and landed with a cat like grace onto the stone below.

Solas was stood observing his mural, deep in thought. He did not seemed bothered or surprised by the arrival of the mage.

“Solas!” Her voice was hoarse, and her breathing laboured. 

“Why Inquisitor?” Solas turned and gazed at her, dressed in a nightgown and robe. She looked disgruntled and unwell, the circles had darkened. She clutched at a shaking arm. “What do I owe the pleasure… so late.”

“Cut the bullshit.” She snapped. She placed her clawed arm with a thud onto his desk. “Help me.”

“Is this a joke? I am sorry, but I do not understand your sense of humour in the Marches.” Solas narrowed his eyes.

“My arm! Look at it!” She hissed. It felt like it was on fire now.

“… I see only your arm. The anchor is stable so it should not be causing you harm.”

“You… can’t see it?”

Solas tilted his head. He moved to her arm and frowned. 

“I can see your arm.”

Pandora began to laugh, it was almost manic.

"Look!" She looked down at her arm, and flexed her clawed fingers. 

"... I am not sure what is so miraculous about flexing your fingers?"

She continued laughing. It was part of her imagination.

“Sorry to disturb you Solas.”

Solas inclined his head and watched as she left the room, towards the battlements of Skyhold. Something flashed across his face for a moment, before he decided to sit and visit the fade once more. 

Pan stumbled out through the door into the night air. She breathed in with a shaking breath, staring upwards at the stars in the sky. How beautiful they were. Twinkling down at her peacefully, watching the world with wonder. She looked back down at her arm, clawed and misshapen. It was all in her head. 

"Keep it on a lock down." The wind whispered, as Lydia's voice filled her mind. "Close your eyes. Keep it on a lock down."

Pandora breathed slowly and closed her eyes.

She was sat in the Chantry in the Circle, she was only 11 years old and she was shaking, her head buried in her hands. She wanted to be as small as she could and disappear. She had summoned a storm once more. Some of the other younger children had tormented her, pulled her hair and called her names. They had also singled out one of her friends. It was when they laughed and chanted ‘knife ears’ at Cael that the storm had raged. She had fled, fearful that she would be made tranquil and knowing she had acted wrongly. But instead Lydia had found her. She sat next to the young girl, curling herself up as small as she and offered the words.

"Close your eyes, keep it on a lock down. Good. Now open them, breathe slowly…"

She glanced down at her hand tentatively. Normal once more. Part of her imagination. Her heart beat slowed again. She felt the urge to get higher, to look out beyond Skyhold and to the stars. Climbing would calm her further, and feeling the wind up high with the stars looking down would do so further. She wanted to stand on the edge of the world.

Before she knew it, she was at the top of a tower, standing on the wooden roof, a few tiles slipping under foot. She stood on the edge, staring at the dark mountains beyond. The stars and moon lit the landscape and she breathed. It felt so fresh. She took no notice and breathed in, closing her eyes as the wind rushed around her. She was not scared of what might happen, up in the sky. It was odd how she felt safe in such a place.

Suddenly she opened her eyes as she felt the wood creak beneath her feet. She gasped, as the wood began to break and snap, giving way. She fell through the ceiling, her arms flailing up at the stars as they twinkled down at her. Her stomach jolted. Her hair flew wildly around her face, purple eyes gleaming as she fell into darkness. Yet she still wasn't scared.

She crashed onto a wooden floor, the air in her lungs escaping as she gasped painfully. Pan heard movement, but couldn’t react or cry out. Electricity surged through her arms for a moment, unwillingly. The moonlight now streaming into the room caught a flash of metal, as the end of a sword pointed at her neck.

“Huuuunh.” She tried to speak. No words came out as she was still winded. 

Cullen stood above her, bewilderment clear on his face. As the dust settled and the moonlight shone he dropped his sword with a clatter.

“Makers breath, I didn’t realise it was you. How did you…?” He looked sleepy. He rubbed his eyes. Cullen peered up at the hole and then down to Pan. “Are you alright?”

She wheezed again, but managed to sit upright.

“Commander!” A voice called from below. One of the night guards. 

Cullen ran his fingers through his hair and walked over to the ledge. “What?”

“I am sorry to disturb you but I heard a crash and I thought I would check if everything was alright.”

“No need to worry.” Cullen glanced down at Pan, who seemed to be breathing normally again. “The roof just caved in, I will sort it in the morning.”

“Yes sir.”

With that the door shut.

“Pandora, are you alright? What happened?” Concern was clear in his tone.

He edged towards her tentatively as she slowly lifted herself from the floor. Electricity sparked from her for a final time, earthing itself in the floor. 

“Cullen, I didn’t realise I had climbed your tower. I am ever so sorry…” Her voice trailed, as her purple eyes travelled to the hole she had made in the roof. It was the truth. She had climbed the first thing in sight, in her hurried attempts to calm herself.

He was stood in his night clothes, a simple cotton tunic and his hair was ruffled not its usual neat style.

“It is the middle of night, why aren’t you asleep?”

“I… was but I had a dream… a nightmare and I…” She trailed off, looking to the floor. She realised suddenly that her dress was high on her thighs. She blushed and hurriedly pulled at her dress. 

Cullen suddenly sharply in took his breath and his hand shot up to his forehead. His vision blurred, so he moved to the bed to sit down.

“Cullen!?” Pandora rushed to his side, sitting next to him, a hand going to his leg with concern. He buried his head in his hands. “The Lyrium?”

He nodded. “It is getting worse. Everyday. You told me not to take it, and I want to not take it. Not to be bound to that life. But the pain, is almost unbearable.”

He closed his eyes. The desire demon. Lately in his worst nightmares Pandora had become the demon, torturing him and then getting slain by the Hero of Ferelden, Tabris. He shivered.

Then he gasped, as he felt her fingers touch his forehead. He heard and felt the faint whisper of the magic, as his headache was lifted. He looked up, to the healing green glow emanating between them.

“That should ease the pain until the morning, when you can get more supplies from the Apothecary.” She lowered her hand and smiled. His heart swelled as her smile warmed him. “I know a little healing magic from the Circle. Enough to help in minor cases.”

“Thank you.” His hand moved to her cheek. She was so soft. He stroked her skin fondly, and she leant in, smiling. She felt safest near him. Their relationship was progressing slowly; but since Halamshiral it had become known to other members of the Inquisition. Sera had made a few passing comments and Bull did not seem to understand the lack of physical interaction. Each time they had mentioned it in Crestwood, her fingers had twirled non stop. Dorian ended his jibes long enough to become serious for a moment, and change the conversation. Pan felt at ease with the way it was currently. It felt right, which is what mattered. And Cullen never pressured her, he only ever wanted to spend time or talk to her. Not that there had been a lot to spare since Halamshiral and arriving from Crestwood the day before.

“I am sorry that I broke your roof.” Pan pulled away, and glanced above them to the hole in the rafters.

Cullen chuckled. “You scared me at first. I jumped up believing we were under attack. But I am glad you dropped in… I haven’t seen you since you came back from Crestwood.”

“Why? I interrupted your sleep…”

“You woke me from the Lyrium dreams and your presence… well it is comforting.” His eyes shifted around, clearly a little embarrassed by his admission.

Pan began to nod slowly. 

“Why were you awake?” Cullen turned to look at her now concern in his eyes. “Is your quarters not suitable? I could always get somewhere more comfortable for you set up, if you wished, somewhere closer to your brother and your friends.”

Pan cracked a smile. He had always thought of her. Even since the beginning.

“Cullen it is not that. I could not ask for anywhere better, the views, the books and the space is extraordinary.”

“Is it the mission in Crestwood? Perhaps we should have debriefed when you arrived back, rather than wait until tomorrow.”

“Cullen, I am fine.”

“Yet something bothers you. I can tell. Something has always bothered you, even since Haven.” 

“Why do you take such an interest?”

Cullen laughed. “I take an interest because I care for you, more than I admit and for longer than I care to say. Yet also as a Commander it is my duty to ensure the Inquisitor feels secure.”

He looked deep into her eyes, marvelling at their colour and how easily he could find himself lost in them. She found herself unsure how to react to his words. How long had he cared for her?

“You can tell me, if it will help you, please tell me.”

She studied her hands closely. Pan had held it all in for so long. Cullen had shared his own darkest demons with her, what happened in Kinloch Hold and Kirkwall. His torture at the hands of the desire demon. The torture that lasted for days. He had been so young and hearing the story for the first time had saddened her. Especially as it was during a time he felt weakened by Lyrium withdrawal.

“It is late… and I am imposing on you-“ She began to move, but his hand grabbed her arm. It was gentle and warm. The dust still danced between them as the light from the moon and stars shone into the bedroom.

“You could never impose on me.”

His copper eyes bore into her, with earnest and concern. 

“I care for you Pandora.”

“I… care for you too Cullen.”

A comfortable silence hung between them for a moment. They gazed into each others eyes, until Pandora broke the silence with a shaking breath. She was ready.


	25. Chapter 25

“I have nightmares.” Pandora swallowed, pausing to think through what she was about to say.

She had never before spoke to anyone about what she had experienced. No one had ever really asked, and she had not felt ready. She had even hesitated sharing the details with her brother, preferring to keep him separated from that part of her. Or perhaps she was simply too afraid before, not willing to trust. Not able to trust. She had changed so much over the past few months, thanks to the Inquisition. Her friends.

Cullen sat besides her, listening attentively.

“They usually start with Lady Trevelyan… I suppose everything does start with her to a large extent. I am getting pulled down a corridor, down into the dungeons of the Trevelyan manor. She would usually hide her dislike of me from public eye, but the night of the ball… She held no punches. She locked me in a dungeon for two days, forbidding anyone to see me.”

Pandora bit her lip, to try and stop her tears forming. No one had come to give her food, water or even let her use the toilet. She was even unable to count the days passing.

“I was 9 years old and I knew nothing about magic. I had no idea what I had done. I thought I was locked away because I vomited on the floor. She always called me a mistake, and as I lost track of the days I believed her.”

“Luckily, Ser Garrett was sent to collect me. He was always kind. He explained what I was and what I had done. I was horrified. I might have hurt someone. The Circle gave me purpose in life, and I felt like I belonged. I made friends and I studied hard. One of the youngest to do the Harrowing in Circle History. I even managed to get in touch with Eduard again.”

She smiled.

“But the next part of my nightmare is usually the fire…”

Never Lydia dying. That never was part of her nightmare. Sometimes Lydia was there, already dead in the flames, or not even there at all. But whenever she dreamed of the Circle it involved fire. Always.

“Fire and falling. At the time I was an Enchanter, in charge of training the younger children. I had to find them and make sure they were safe. I managed to get them out, but then I became surrounded by Templar… I suppose you have used dispel during your time as Templar?”

Cullen nodded slowly. His facial expression was set. His copper eyes sparkled with empathy and attention. He was hanging on every word she said. Listening carefully.

“Well two Templar used it on me that night. I was a Circle Mage. I had never had any other experience to defend myself, or any experience of combat. I did not fare well against them. And when your only line of defence and offence is stripped away… with you unable to do anything to bring it back… I-“

She looked down at her hands. 

“I felt powerless. I could not defend myself against their strikes. It hurt. It hurt more than the flames and heat. They weren’t trying to kill me, they toyed with me and-“ She gulped. “Luckily, before they could do anything else I jumped. I jumped from the fourth floor and just hoped that somehow I might survive. In fact, I don’t think I was even thinking of survival. I just wanted to end the pain.”

She remembered falling through the air. At first, looking up at the clear night sky which glowed a faint orange from the intensity of the fire. The embers that floated through the air around her. The sounds of shattering glass and screams from those still trapped. She grabbed for something invisible above her to hold on, but her fingers slipped through air. In that slow horrid dance, she slowly turned in the air, before blacking out. 

“I sustained a broken nose, many broken limbs and fractures, bleeding in the head… I landed face first. Yet I survived somehow. Even to this day I don’t know what saved me.There is no magic that could achieve that. This is where final part of my nightmare begins here…”

She began to twirl her fingers around and around, faster and faster feeling the nerves.

“He- He saved me Cullen.”

She shot him a glance. He was still paying close attention, his eyes swimming with horror at what she had told him so far, but more prominent was the concern.

“I thought… I thought he loved me. I thought I loved him. I know now that it was not love. I am not sure what it was… But it was not love.”

She paused. She was glad he was listening and not interrupting. 

“He nursed me back to health for a month. We wandered. He was an apostate mage, the Templars had slaughtered his whole family for harbouring him. He wanted to end the chaos. He said that Thedas needed hope and to be restored to order. I agreed. He told me what I wanted to hear. He took me to a group of mages who were helping… He was like me a new recruit. We were glued hip to hip.They trained us in combat. They taught us how to go undetected, they showed us how to fight when dispelled. But things were not right. I noticed that as… new recruits slowly went missing…”

She had sat with him in the darkness at night, a blanket wrapped around them whispering her concerns. But he had comforted her, reassuring that surely they had been accepted to the group and sent out on missions. Thinking back Pandora could see all the warning signs, the way he smiled at her the way he never let her from his sight.

“One day I was called into a dark chamber. That… that was where…”

She bit her lip, the tears starting to fall uncontrollably.

“The rituals would take place. I was in the middle, not knowing… not wanting to see the truth. Until they surrounded me, in dark robes. And the pain began… the blood… so much blood and I felt so weak. But they didn’t kill me, like the others. The others… the new recruits… corpses around me. And… it was him all along. He was the Leader of the group.”

When he had lowered the hood, she had seen his face. She felt the pain and betrayal but also the horror. He paced around Pandora, as she slowly bled closer to death. Her blood swirled in red wisps into him as he absorbed her power.

“I did things… they made me do things that I never thought I would do. I became this strange… human weapon.” She stared at her outstretched hand. “I was under mind control for so long… it starts to tear you apart. You no longer know what your own thoughts are and what are commands. I still struggle sometimes, even now. I killed innocent people on the whim of… But even as I did it I still thought I loved him. Or at least…that’s what he wanted me to think.”

Pandora realised how odd it was that she thought it was love. They had never been intimate or really kissed. She shivered remembering the way he would lick the side of her face, like a possessive animal. Had he controlled her mind to think she was in love, or was that a real emotion? 

“… The worst thing is… I don't actually know why he did all those things. I never got that close, despite almost constantly being at his side.”

“How did you escape?” Cullen spoke for the first time. He had thought it would be bad, whatever was in her past to do with the Blood Cult. But he watched her slowly fall apart in front of his eyes. He wasn’t sure what to do, would it be the right thing to hold her? He wanted to. But only if she did.

“I…” Pandora frowned. “I am unsure. One day, it was as though the grip over mind had lessened. And it was enough, just enough for me to take the opening and escape. I wondered for what seemed an age, until I stumbled upon First Enchanter Ines.”

She buried her face in her hands once more. “I felt so ashamed. So stupid for falling into his trap.”

Cullen frowned and shook his head. “How were you to know?”

“But there were signs. I ignored those signs… I should have…”

She stood, and began to walk towards the ladder.

“Where are you going?”

“You probably don’t want me here anymore-“

“I want you here Pan.”

Cullen stood. She looked so small in that moment. It seemed like the mask she had used with her smiles had faded. She looked tired, small and broken. She peered at him over her shoulder. He couldn’t let her leave like that. He broke the gap in a few strides and brought her into him. Her head rested in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and soothed her as he felt her whole body begin to shake with sobs.

“Thank you for telling me.” Cullen murmured into her hair. “You have helped me through so much. I want to be able to help you too. This does not change you in my eyes either. I still a kind, powerful and good mage, who is dedicated to ending the chaos.”

Pan peered up at him, her purple eyes wet. She sniffed.

“But you hate blood magic Cullen…”

“As do you. I dislike how it affects people. I dislike what it has done to you.”

“I am not the only victim of blood magic here.” Pan looked at him.

Cullen shook his head. “I am only concerned about you.”

Pan stood on her toes and reached her lips to meet his.

“Thank you for listening. I feel like a weight has been lifted somewhat.” Pan was surprised to feel that.

“Are you wanting to stay?” Cullen cleared his throat, a little embarrassed. He wanted her to. 

Pan nodded. For some reason she couldn’t face being alone in her huge room.

She climbed into Cullen's bed and breathed deeply. Her eyes felt a bit sore from the crying, but she felt much better and stronger. She breathed, comforted about how much the bed smelt like him. The mixture of his musk and also the fragrances he used to bathe. They faced each other and talked for a while. She even laughed, much to his relief. Slowly their talk got more and more slow, a mixture of murmurs and hums.

They feel asleep facing each other. As the night moved on Pandora edged closer to his chest and he put his arm around her.

She slept for the rest of the night. With no dreams. With no nightmares.


	26. Chapter 26

“This heat is unbearable.” Eduard moaned.

“I thought you were a battle ready warrior, whose resilience allows him to adapt to his surroundings.” Dorian rode next to him, raising an eyebrow with a bemused smirk.

“Charming?” Varric laughed. “He just likes to create the impression he is all that.”

“Ah. Well it all makes sense now. And here I was thinking that the flannel on his head was some kind of genius military tactic.”

“I can hear what is coming out of your damned mouths.” Eduard frowned.

The Inquisition was riding through the deserts, towards the fortress at Adamant. They were heading to a battle, with the Grey Wardens. They had been led astray by a Venatori Magister, Erimond. He controlled some with his Blood Magic promising a ritual to end the blight, but he was misleading them. And now he was at Adamant Fortress and he had to be stopped. Another agent of Corypheus. 

“I agree with the battle ready warrior.” Alistair was sat flopped in his horse, clutching a skin of water. He looked uncomfortable in the warm weather “How the Inquisitor is doing this walking…”

“She is harder than you piss faces thats for sure.” Sera declared from her horse. “Showing the foot soldiers that just cos she is the Quizzy, that she can be with them too.”

“I am sure the Commander would not like her being with ALL the foot soldiers.” Hawke laughed to himself. “Who would have thought eh? Cullen would fall for a mage.”

“I think he had a crush on one in Ferelden. So it isn't such a shock. ” Eduard shrugged, but then he turned and glared at Hawke as the meaning of his words sunk in. “What did you just say about her being with the soldiers?”

“Chill out Charming.” Varric laughed. “A flirt doesn't hurt.”

“Don’t tell me to chill! How can I chill in this heat?”

“Oh, back to the heat again. Stop moaning, our morale shall fall even before we reach the fortress.” Dorian sighed.

“If your morale falls, I know how to rise it again.” Eduard looked to Dorian with a cheeky smile.

He returned to watching ahead. He ignored the heat as best he could. Eduard focused on his sister. She was walking with the common foot soldiers of the forces. She was laughing and talking to them, as if she had known them all her life. He was proud to see her develop from the nervous wreck at the start to what she was now. Much more sure of herself. 

If she was struggling she did not show it. Eduard rested his weight on one of his riding legs, taking the reigns in the other hand. Of course she had refused to ride a horse, even with someone else. She had told him what happened to her after Ostwick before they had set out. He was thankful she had finally told him, but Eduard felt a little sting of jealously that she had most likely told Cullen first. But the more he thought about the more it made sense. He only knew a few details about Cullens time in Kinloch, yet it was enough to know it involved Blood Magic. Out of everyone Cullen would be the best to truly understand. Eduard could only imagine how horrific it must be to not have control over your own mind or actions. 

If only he had transferred to Ostwick. Maybe it would have been different. He might have saved her from that fate.

“Fine day isn’t it curly?” Hawke grinned as Cullens horse pulled in close.

He glanced at Hawke and nodded. Hawke grinned back, never faltering. Varric chuckled. Cullen ran his hands through his hair, it had indeed curled slightly in the heat.

“Hey… I recognise that man from somewhere…” Alistair frowned, touching his lip with his finger in thought.

“The lines are all ok.” Cullen moved his horse to trot next to Eduard. “A few scouts have reported back, we are not far from the fortress.”

“Come on brain think, where do I know him from?”

Eduard nodded.

“We will be stopping to set up camp within the next hour. I plan to get us resting and then attack at nightfall.”

“Good idea. Less heat.” Eduard grinned. “What do you want me to do?”

“That man from the Tavern who lost against Isolde in card game? No… I think he was a Qun…”

“Ensure that we have water supplies and our trebuchets are constructed upon arrival.” Cullen ignored Alistair.

“Understood.”

“Got it!” Alistair clicked his fingers. “You… Didn’t we train together?”

Cullen turned to Alistair. “We did for a time, until you were recruited to the Wardens.”

“Thought so… hold on… Weren’t you at Kinloch.”

Cullen swallowed.

“Glad to see you are doing ok.” Alistair offered a smile. “That was certainly… a trying time for all involved.”

“Thank you. Same to you.”

Cullen and Eduard rode side by side for a moment in silence. A laugh broke through the air. Cullen looked ahead to Pandora. She was walking, head tilted back and body shaking with laughter.

"Your girl is flirting with your men." Hawke chimed up.

"She isn't my girl... Has she walked this entire time?”

“Yup.” Eduard sighed. “She won’t go near horses. I even tried to get her in the back of a cart with supplies, but she refused. I think she oddly thrives in this weather, while the rest of us… melt. Or curl.”

Cullen ignored the last remark. “Perhaps it is the prospect of a storm coming from the intense heat.”

Eduard nodded. “She always liked storms. Lady Trevelyan didn’t. She would hide and cower.”

“That might be why she likes them.”

“Cullen, if you hurt her I will hurt you.”

“Pardon?”

Eduard faced him now. Cullen was surprised to see his usual jovial facial expressions changed. Serious.

“I know that something is happening. We all do. Keep her safe, especially with this Blood Cult thing…” Eduard frowned. He had read the report from Leliana. Pandora had asked months back to have the Antivan Border searched for any remnants. She was still clearly worried about it.

“We will all keep her safe Eduard. Everyone in the Inquisition is on her side. Leliana is still searching and Josephine is even using her ties in Antiva to investigate. Everyone will keep her safe, it is the least we can do for someone who has done so much.” 

Cullen knew what Eduard was thinking. Occasionally they would sleep together, nights in bed. Or at least Cullen slept. Sometimes he woke in the middle of the night to see her sat up reading with a faint light. Or the time she would sleep, she would talk and have nightmares. He knew she was worried about the Blood Cult. 

“I suppose the first test is at nightfall.” Eduard sighed. 

“She can also care for herself.” Cullen pointed out.

“I know she can. It is just, she is my little sister.”

 

*

 

“I can’t just stand here.”

Pandora barrelled forwards.

They had attacked at nightfall. It was cooler and easier to muster the full forces of the Inquisition. But she had stood and watched too long. The battering ram pounded into the doors of Adamant Fortress, but as it did stones and arrows rained upon the troops. Troops she had spent the days walking with. She could not allow it.

She frowned, concentrating on one of the boulders. It was on course to smash straight into the helm of one of the Inquisition troops manning the battering ram. She reached out with both hands, staff still secure in her back.

The boulder slowed down, and suddenly was hovering mid air. It was rotating as though it should still be moving downwards. Then it rocketed upwards, away from the Inquisition soldiers and smashed into the troops stood on the battlements. 

“One more push!” Eduard roared from Pandora’s side.

The soldiers screamed with the final heave of the battering ram. Wood splinted at it smashed through the gates of the fortress.

“You certainly do keep surprising me, Pan.” Dorian grinned at her.

“What can I say? It is all those books we are getting through.”

Dorian snorted. 

“For such a small woman you sure do pack a punch.”

She felt a hand clamp on her shoulder. Hawke grinned at her. Pandora shuffled uncomfortably. She was slightly in awe of the ruggedly handsome warrior.

“Oi. Get your flirtations away from my sister.” Eduard growled.

Hawke chuckled uncomfortably and held up his hands. “Wow. Chill out.”

“Don’t tell me to chill out in this heat… Why do people keep saying that?” Eduard scowled.

“I would hardly call, calling her small a flirtation Eduard.” Dorian raised an eyebrow.

“Charming just has to protect Fairest that’s all. I don’t blame him around this one.” Varric grinned and thumped Hawke playfully.

“We just gonna stand around chatting like rich tits, or actually get inside yeah?” Sera crossed her arms in annoyance.

“I agree.” Alistair looked up at the fortress. “Clarel is within. And we must stop this ritual before it is completed. Let’s un-tit ourselves.”

The group dashed forwards. Arrows fired, swords swung in the air and magic crackled through the air with precision. Pandora leant down low, as a soldier fell to the ground with the slash of her blade on the staff. She looked around. Everyone was doing fine. She twirled her staff and cried out, as lightning surged through her and then shocked outwards, sparking into nearby enemies.

“There are through! Pull back!”

She glanced up at a dark armoured soldier, who hurried back away from the entrance.

“All right, you have your way in Inquisitor. Best make use of it.”

Pandora turned to see Cullen walk through the carnage, his sword drawn.

“We will keep the main host of demons occupied for as long as we can.”

“What do you mean… as long as you can?” Pan turned fully. “Don’t do anything too daring, keep yourself and our people safe.”

“We’ll do what we have to. Warden Alistair will guard your back.”

“Hellooooo.” Alistair waved as he pulled his sword from a body.

“Hawke is… with you.” Cullen frowned. He had told Hawke to help the soldiers take the Battlements.

Hawke shrugged. “I am not good with plans that aren’t mine. Sorry curly.”

“Oh and Inquisitor…” Cullen touched her arm and gripped it. “Stay safe. Come back.”

Pan flashed a smile. “Of course.”

 

*

 

The dragons rattling breathe calls over Adamant. Pan has no time to focus on the dragon. She is running ahead, trying to keep up with Clarel and Erimond. The Warden Commander had been swayed by Pandora’s words, but to the chagrin of the Ventaori Magister. Pandora frowned at the thought of Erimond. Something about him bothered her. She could almost swear she had known him, or at least met him before.Yet that would have been impossible. Despite his blood magic, the cult she belonged was on the Antivan border and he was a Tevinter Magister. 

The dragon screamed out once more, and Pan glanced to see. It was laying waste to the Inquisitions forces, fire and stone raining down. She couldn’t see Cullen anywhere, but then again she was high up the fortress. She hoped that he was safe, that he was unharmed.

She skidded to a halt. Clarel stood facing Erimond. His fire blasted towards her, but she bashed it away like it was nothing. 

“You destroyed the Grey Wardens.”

Pan could sense her anger, as the Warden Knight Enchanter conjured the green blade to knock him back.

“You did that to yourself you stupid bitch. All I did was dangle a little bit of power before your eyes and you couldn’t wait to get your hands bloody.”

She stood above him and growled. Her magic pushed him back.

“You could have served a new god!”

“I will never serve the blight!”

Pan edged forwards, her group following close behind. Alistair looked cornered for the Warden, while Hawke looked mildly annoyed. Eduard stood closest to her, two handed sword ready.

A crash of stone. Clarel was engulfed by the jaws of the dragon.

“No!” Pandora screamed, rushing forwards.

But it was too late. The dragon pushed off the ground and swooped around before dropping Clarel like a sack of potatoes to the ground. It advanced towards them, and Pandora realised with a sinking heart that she had placed them close to the edge. Clarel was bleeding heavily. She turned to look up at the underbelly of the dragon.

Pandora readied her staff, unsure how best to attack a dragon. She swallowed. But Clarel shot a burst of strong magic from her hand just as the dragon made its move. The dragon tumbled over the edge of the fortress. But as it tumbled so too did the walk way.

“Everyone move quickly!”

Pandora and her group ran forwards. But a startled cry caught her attention. Alistair had not moved quick enough and he was dangling over the edge. The stone around them was crumbling, but Pan dashed backwards, grabbing Alistair and yanking him up. They stumbled ahead, almost into the clear. But the stone beneath their feet collapsed.

Pandora fell through the air. She tumbled spinning around and around. It reminded her of escaping the circle, although this time there was no fire. This time she was oddly calm. As she rounded so she was facing the floor she stretched out her left hand. The mark flashed green and the fade engulfed them.


	27. Chapter 27

Hawke was yelling about how it was always damned spiders. His swords cutting down the attackers. Sera struggled, her arrows usually so sure missing the demons which were encapsulating the fear of those around them. Dorian chuckled, twirling his staff at the demons sending fire into their paths, also muttering about spiders. Varric grimaced as Bianca released a torrent of arrows to the demons, his face going paler and paler. 

Pandora wished she could see spiders, nothing or whatever Varric could see. To her the millions of spiders to some, were a million rearing horses to her. Their eyes red with madness, snorting their hot breath into the atmosphere of the fade.

One approached her and she felt sick from her phobia, until it suddenly froze into an ice cube and exploded into a million pieces of ice, trickling onto the floor. Eduard's double handed sword had smashed the demon horse to pieces. He looked to his sister with concern.

“Pan.” Dorian put a firm hand on her shoulder. “Remember we are in the fade. Remember this is all part of your fear. Conquer it.”

His eyes bore into her, with a mixture of concern and worry but also determination. She nodded. The spirit of the Divine had told them this was the work of a fear demon, controlled by Corypheus. The spirit had told them they needed to escape.

Pandora had opened the rift after the dragon had attacked them, rendering a bridge in Adamant to ruin. She had saved them, but also thrown them into a mess. Sera had fallen to pieces upon realising the scale of magic involved and even Eduard had become more silent. It made her think that despite him been a Templar previously, he was to some extent fearful of magic. Or perhaps it was because he had once been a Templar. She had to get them out.

“We need you to fight with us. We must find a way to escape this cursed place or else suffer the fate of listening to Sera screaming about nothing for eternity. People are waiting for us on the other side.”

She breathed in deeply. There were people on the other side, her other companions who she held dearly close to her heart. Her friends. She had promised Iron Bull some drinks when she returned. He had insisted. He could tell she had been having a tough time and thought it might help her. She had to get Sera out, her brother and Varric. But also Alistair and Hawke, they did not seemed as fazed as the others, but it clearly was bothering them a little bit. 

Pan thought about Cullen, the concern on his face when he left them and his fingers lingering slightly longer than normal on her arm. He had probably seen the dragon and the bridge collapsing. He would be waiting. 

She twirled her staff with elegant grace, sending a bolt of purple energy through it and her and then sparking up from the floor into horses nearing Sera, whose face was pure panic. Then it was all over.

Pandora walked over the to elf, who had sank to the floor hands on the floor eyes wide. She knelt down and put a hand on her shoulder, the same gesture Dorian had given her a moment ago.

“Sera, everything will be ok I promise you. You shall get out of here but you must get up and you must keep fighting.”

“Frig this, fuck the fade.” She spat out in disgust and Pan was shocked to see her eyes watering with tears slightly. “Is it real? But it is the fade… fucking bollocks. Innit.”

Pan offered a hand and Sera accepted, letting her pull her up from the floor. Sera grimaced and secured her bow back into its holder. “I agree Sera.”

“The spirit of the divine or whatever it was, did say this place holds some of your memories Inquisitor.” Hawke spoke, folding his arms and looking around.

Alistair was leaning against his sword, which he had speared into the ground and looked unfazed. “Plenty of nice looking chairs to sit on.”

Pan looked for the first time at the scenery of the place and frowned. There were nicely upholstered chairs dotted around, some on the walls, some on the floor and books piled here and there, others suspended in the air somehow.

“This is… a mixture of the tower and the Trevelyan house.” She touched a chair to her right. She frowned. “I didn’t think the fade worked like this…”

“Me neither.” Dorian nonchalantly picked up a book and examined it. Pan was slightly annoyed that he seemed intrigued and not concerned.

“This chair…” Eduard joined her and looked at the chair. His eyes snapped to Pandora and he frowned. “Father used to sit in a chair like this, remember? Is this his chair?”

"In the library. Whenever he was home, he would sit here reading."

"When you left I barely saw him move from that chair. Even when I returned from the Circle... until he died."

Pandora squeezed his shoulder. Eduard looked to her and smiled.

“I suspect we will be facing some fears on our journey to recover memories.” Dorian speculated. “We have just battled through spiders, or horses-“

“I saw nothing. Nothingness.” Sera growled.

“I saw many Isolde’s screaming at me for leaving my laundry out in the rain.” Alistair piped up.

“- in order to obtain the first memory this demon has taken from you and I suspect more.” Dorian continued ignoring the elf and Warden.

“Lets move.”

They journeyed through, occasionally fighting demons as they appeared, Pandora collected some artefacts and skills, fears of people during the blight, during the rebellion… she could just feel the despair around her, yet she refused to let it overwhelm them. She had hope after all. 

She managed to recollect the events in the Conclave, picking up a green orb as some ritual was preformed on the Divine. She knew the ritual well. It was Blood magic. Once again Blood Magic. She did not like the connections, there were too many for her liking. 

That was when the fear demon began to talk to them and tried to intimidate them, each one individually. It managed a few grumbles from the group, but mostly they tried to brush it aside. 

Then it reached her.

“And then we have the Inquisitor. The fairest of them all. You fear your own reflection, your beauty the source of all your suffering and pain- a gift and a curse, making you the object of desire and hate.”

She stopped walking as something caught her eye. She turned and saw herself in a mirror and she gasped. The others stopped and looked. She hated mirrors. Yet she couldn't look away.

“By the Maker.” Hawke cursed looking into the mirror. 

Looking back was Pandora, but she was different. Her eyes were the colour they used to be, before she fell from the Tower window. They were sky blue. Her nose was no longer slightly crooked, it was straight, as it had been and no slight scar below her eye. Looking back at her, was a woman who looked otherworldly, with her shinning black hair and sky blue eyes, perfect clear light brown skin and plump lips.

“Ew!” Sera exclaimed. “I don’t like that. Too perfect.”

Pandora’s eyes widened as she realised her companions were not reflected in the mirror. Instead a woman slowly appeared behind her and placed a hand on her arm, smiling with malice.

“A beauty that drove hate.” The fear demons voice cut through her.

Lady Trevelyan slowly bought out a sword and sliced the throat of Pandora in the mirror, and she crumpled to the floor, as blood spurt everywhere. Her two sisters appeared next Lady Trevelyan and they began to laugh, as she writhed on the floor, blood spurting through her fingers unable to breathe. The mirror then flashed to another image.  
 Pandora tore herself from the mirror and walked on, the others close behind.

“You cannot escape that easily.” The fear demon chuckled.

“Your stepmother truly hated you for your beauty?” Dorian asked.

“I have no idea; that was always just a theory Eduard devised, yet it seemed plausible.”

“She did.” Eduard nodded. “I mean… did you see my sisters in that reflection?”

“As a bastard myself, I can sympathise.” Alistair interjected, offering a reassuring smile. “People can do hateful things to children, when they unwittingly threaten a peaceful home.” 

“Alistair, you cannot sympathise, you are hardly beautiful.” Hawke snorted.

“Oh your words wound Hawke.” Alistair retorted. "It is like you have read from a book entitled 'How to try and annoy Alistair in a sentence or less' by Morrigan."

“Indeed, it was your beauty that drove the hate.” The fear demons voice rumbled. “Can you not remember?”

Pan felt the wind escape her lungs. Screams of her father and step mother echoed around the fade.

“I never loved you!” Her fathers voice was uncharacteristically angry, with hints of something else. “You knew that, when you weaselled your way into my family for marriage.”

“I never knew your lust for that ugly Orlesian whore would result in a bastard child!”

“Ugly? She was the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on. She was kind. How dare you call her a bastard! My daughter and Eduard are my only legitimate children by blood! You can hardly complain at me, after what you have been doing!”

“That girl, will never inherit the title. That girl will never pair off favourably.”

“And why is that? She is beautiful just like her mother.”

Pan spun to face Eduard.

“Do you remember that?”

Eduard shook his head, he had paled. Obviously this information was as new to him as her. “Never. They argued alot… but I never overheard this one… they aren’t my full blood sisters?”

"I...?" Pandora was unsure how to answer.

The siblings looked at each other. They were both equally shocked by what they had just heard. The Lady was never truly loved by their father was no shock; but the hints that she had known all along, the hints that she had somehow manoeuvred into the favourable marriage, and the fact she had fathered two children to someone other than the Bann. That was new.

"Maybe, she hated you for your beauty and the threat that you actually have his blood?" Eduard questioned.

"I would never inherit. Not as a bastard. Not with you."

"Yet you would inherit before my... Lady Trevelyan's daughters."

“Beauty drives hate. Blood drives jealously.” The fear demon mocked.

“Let’s keep moving.” Varric put his hand on Pan and titled his head to Sera. Pan struggled to flash a smile, but she nodded. Sera was becoming more and more agitated.

They rounded the corner to another mirror.

“Shit.” Pandora cursed and turned, but was confronted by another mirror. 

The image had changed, and stood looking back at her, was Pandora in the Circle. Younger sightly plump, still blue eyed. The image began to change. Pandora stood in her Junior Enchanter robes and then she saw with a pang of her heart Lydia and Ser Garrett stand behind her, hands on her shoulder. Lydia’s kind eyes smiled on her, not with malice, but love. Her age showed in the corners of her eyes, but she was still a handsome lady- her hair only slightly greying from her red hair. Then she fell to the floor, sword in her back and Ser Garrett stumbled, before fading.

“You fear your inadequacy, your inability to help or save them.”

Then the image swirled with fire and stood behind her now were the Templar from the tower. But the two men that smiled back at her with lust were not the two men from the tower. One was her brother- hand gripping her shoulder too tightly, eyes maddened with red lyrium. The other smiled, the scar on his lip curling in hate and lust, she was not used to seeing his face like that. Cullen stared back at her. Her chest tightened and her eyes widened.

“Mages aren’t people like you and me. They cannot be our friends.” He spoke through the mirror and his smile made her shudder. It was not full of warmth. But lust and hate.

She turned from the mirror, finding the way clear this time and walked off; not wishing to see what she knew would come next.

“We have to get out of here.” She frowned walking faster.

“I agree.” Eduard grumbled.

She shook her head, trying to hold back the tears and erase the image of her brother and Cullen fuelled by red lyrium. Staring at her with hate and lust. She felt nausea build.

They met another horde of demons, quickly getting rid of them, but Sera was still disturbed by her inability to see anything.

“How did you survive the tower Inquisitor? Can you remember? You fell from so high…”

An image of her falling through the fiery air, book pages fluttering around her as she grabbed for nothing danced before them.

“Keep moving!” Pan barked. She pushed through whatever was coming next and ran ahead. The vision behind them now.

“You cannot escape me that easily. But Inquisitor… your main fear is him.”

Pandora felt her stomach jolt, as she almost ran to see another mirror and she swallowed. Stood before her was herself, with her violet eyes and broken nose. She was dressed in the black enchanter robes that she had wore the day the Conclave blew. The hood up, obscuring her hair.

“You fear loosing control, you fear his power and his control over you.”

Appearing behind her was a man, mahogany hair obscuring his face, but his lips appeared near her mouth as he stooped down to whisper commands into her ear. Smirking, knife twirling in his fingers.

“Who is that?” Hawke inquired.

“Enough.” Pandora bought her staff down hard upon the mirror, shattering it to a million pieces, stopping the image.

“You fear that he is not really dead. Once again, your beauty fuelling your pain.”

She turned to look at her companions and they watched her; her face had contorted to an unusual look of loathing, it seemed unnatural on her.

“We need to get rid of this thing. Quickly.” Pandora growled.

Eduard nodded. “Yes. Lets.”

 

*

 

They remained silent as they approached a grave yard. The stones had the names of her friends on it, naming their fears. Hers was the largest in the middle: “Beauty”. She swallowed and turned to look at the others. They each stared down at their grave stone. Their fear staring back at them. Pandora glanced around, recognising some of the names. Her other friends not here. Her eyes fell onto Cullen's: "Addiction". She swallowed. He battled everyday with it. Everyday... was he living his fear?

She scanned everyone once more and her eyes fell onto her brother. He stood over his stone, his head drooped. He was slightly slumped as though some energy had been zapped from him.

Pan moved to her brother. She placed her hand on his arm. He looked to her and then back to the stone. “Rejection.”

“One day I will be the Bann of Trevelyan. No matter how far I run or what I do, that fate will reach me.” He admitted. “What if I am not good enough? What if the people don’t accept me for what I am?”

“What you are?”

“I… I love all. And currently, I quite like a man. What if I am rejected, by him and the people of Ostwick? Then what? Surely the Inquisition would do the same? Then what would I be?” Tears gathered in his eyes. “And what if I turn into mother? If I do … then all will reject me anyway.”

Pan squeezed his arm tightly. “Why would people reject you for those things?”

“It is… the Templar and Chantry damned it so much. Yet, I cannot help who I love… yet i am already rejected in their eyes.”

“Fuck them Eduard.” 

Eduard jolted surprised at the tone of her voice. He looked to her.

“You will never be rejected. The Inquisition values you, for exactly who you are. And I value who you are. You are accepted and loved Eduard. I promise. I will never let you become rejected. I promise.”

Eduard pulled Pandora to him and held her close. Pan felt a rare smile creep on her face. She closed her eyes.

“Thanks tiny sister.”

“Lets get out of here.”

Eduard nodded.

They gathered the others and set off once more. Pan slowly began to realise that no matter what she read, or how much she studied she would never truly know the fade. The fears and memories locked in here were so many. Not just her own, but from the Blight all of them. She hoped she could get them out. Hope was all she had.

“We are close!” Dorian yelled as they walked into a clearing.

Pandora blanched.

“That’s one big spider!” Hawke grunted.

“Spider? I wish it was a bloody spider!” Pan cried, readying her staff. 

Stood before he was the fear demon. Taunting them ever more. And behind it, a huge rearing horse. Red eyes glaring down upon her. A light blinded them, and to Pandoras horror she watched the demon seemed to intermingle with the horse.

“Oh maker.”

“Attack it!” Alistair yelled.

“I grow fat on your fear!” It taunted.

Pan swirled her staff through the air, and lightning sparked out with deadly precision as Varric unloaded arrows with a torrent into its body. Hawke, Alistair and Eduard charged, swords raised over their heads. Dorian moved around and raised the dead to fight. It was a long fight, but they finally seemed to be getting somewhere.

“To the rift now!” Pandora commanded.

Varric, Dorian and Eduard dashed forwards as suddenly a huge hoof stomped down. The remnants of the fear demon blocked Pan, Alistair and Hawke.

“Shit!” Pan swore.

“Go, I’ll cover you.” Hawke looked up at what he saw. A huge spider.

“No!” Alistair retorted. “The Grey Wardens caused this! A warden must-”

“A Warden must help them rebuild that is your job!”

Pan stared between the two men to the first and up the horse. She grunted as her hand glowed green. It hurt. She looked ahead to the rift.

“Sorry.”

“Wha-?”

She twirled her staff above her head and planted it into the ground with force, outstretching her green glowing hand. The sparks jolted the two men and sent them backwards, hurtling towards the green rift.

"I will find a way."

The giant horse whinnied and Pan looked up as the rift closed.


	28. Chapter 28

“I don’t understand.”

“Commander, Ser, reports say that the party have emerged from the rift-“

“So what of the Inquisitor?”

Cullen poured over the map of the battlefield. He had led the attack on the walls, and fought alongside the men, inching closer and closer to taking over Adamant. The runners who kept him connected with the whereabouts and feats of Pandora and the rest constantly kept him updated. 

Until the damned dragon. He had just thrust his sword into the face of a demon, his shield bashing away another foe as the dreaded rattle of dragons breathe echoed around the fortress. He looked up and saw it circle above. He watched as it landed on a bridge, but then it fell. The bridge crumbled. He watched as a flash of green illuminated the landscape for an instant.

Since then the runners had been quiet. Unable to tell him anything. All they had was that Clarel was dead, the remains of her body wrapped in cloth and an unconscious Magister. He peered over his shoulder to the runner. Then man looked a little uncomfortable, shifting on his feet.

“We are uncertain Commander.”

“What do you mean uncertain?”

“I came as soon as I saw. The others emerged from the rift and then it closed. Everyone but the Inquisitor.”

“Impossible.” Cullen muttered.

His fist clenched and he grabbed his sword resting agains the table. He nodded to the other troops.

“Continue with the current plan and update me with any new reports.”

They nodded and dispersed.

Cullen marched towards the fortress. It was a mess. Stone and rubble lay everywhere. He picked his way through the battlefield and felt his heart fall. He looked at the corpses of some of the Inquisition troops. He always struggled with loosing men and women in battle. He was Commander. It was his responsibility and his fault. His fault. He had sent Pandora in there.

He entered the fortress and the destruction worsened. The remains of demons and bodies were everywhere. Grey Wardens stood as if just awoken from a trance or daze, staring at their hands. The work of Blood Magic. Cullen scanned the courtyard and found who he was looking for.

“Eduard.” He dashed over to his Second in Command. Eduard was pale. “Where is she?”

“Maker knows!” Eduard raised his hands, exasperated. “She was right behind us!”

Dorian stood staring at the faint green glow of the torn veil. “She is in the fade.”

“What?” Cullen turned and stared at the handsome Tevinter mage.

“She opened up the veil with her mark, no doubt saving us all from that fall. We fell into the fade, the realm of a fear demon.”

“I offered to stay… to give them chance to leave…” Hawke ran his fingers through his hair.

“You were meant to have her back!” Cullen rounded on the Warden and Hawke.

Alistair held up his hands. “She pushed us through. I-… I am sorry Commander. Eduard.”

Hawke chuckled awkwardly. “She was very forceful about it.”

Cullen grabbed him by the collar. “Don’t joke.”

“Let Hawke go!” Varric yelled. “You ain’t the only one sad Curly!

“Cullen!” Eduard growled, grabbing his hand from Hawke. “Leave him alone. He did all he could do. You know what she can be like… we are all angry and upset!”

“But she is my-“

“She is my sister!” Eduard yelled. A quiet hush fell across the courtyard. The Grey Wardens glanced up. They didn’t wish to draw too much attention, they felt partially to blame after all. “My sister Cullen. The only family I have who isn’t a liar and who wouldn’t turn me away.”

Dorian glanced over his shoulder at Eduard.

“Stop arguing. This is not helping.” He scolded.

“Shiny pants is right.” Sera folded her arms. “She glows. She will find a way. Makes no sense to me, but she will.”

“Sera has the essence of it. Out of all of us to get stuck in the fade, Pandora has the odds in her favour. She is a mage, experienced in the fade from her Harrowing at least and she has the mark.”

“Yet there are demons in the fade.” Eduard advanced to Dorian. “Therein lies danger.”

Dorian half smiled. “She is more than capable.”

“The danger remains however.” Alistair spoke up.

Cullen nodded, frowning. They would need all the Templar recruits that they could spare. He hoped that it wouldn’t come to needing to use them.

“The best we can do is find where the veil is torn or weak and set up scouts in the area to keep watch.” Dorian suggested.

Cullen nodded. “I shall get to that immediately. Luckily, Solas joined with some of the others after the attack began.”

 

*

 

Cullen rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was early in the morning, and the dawn had not yet broke. He had not stopped to rest since the attack began. He would not rest until she was back. He felt sick and tired but he pushed those feelings aside and watched the elven apostate closely.

“The veil is thin here. The stones whisper of slaves and magic.”

Cullen looked around the sand covered ruin. They were alone and far from the rest of the force. He had spread the men that could be spared thinly to cover more ground. Eduard and the others remained in Adamant.

“How are you so certain that she will not use the tear in Adamant?”

Solas turned to look at Cullen.

“It can only be used from this side. And if what the others say is true, that there is a fear demon in that part of the fade, no doubt she will be trying to evade it. Thus it is natural to turn away from that tear.”

“What can we do to help her?”

“Wait.”

Cullen clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Is that all you can offer?”

“Yes.” Solas sat down on a stone, setting his staff to one side and closed his eyes. 

Cullen was about to open his mouth to say something. But he thought better of it. He disliked the idea of not having much use and just waiting. What else was there to do?  
 He sighed. 

A faint crackling noise echoed around the ruins of the building. Cullen straightened and looked around, as the sand whipped up around his feet from the distant wind. His heart beat quicker as the crackling intensified and a green light bathed the area.

“Solas-!”

“I am aware.” 

Solas stood, grabbing his staff. He squinted, leaning on the staff and watching a space in front of them.

“Be ready.”

“Why?”

Solas shook his head.

Cullen frowned at the cryptic elf and unsheathed his sword and shield.

The veil tore open. Two shapes tumbled out.

Cullen dodged back as Pandora landed in a heap on the sandy floor, her face contorted in anger and effort. A demon was atop her, snapping at her head. The smell of ozone filled the air, as sparks flew from her into the demon, sending it careening backwards. Cullen dashed over to her and bent down, as Solas engaged the demon. 

“Pan… are you hurt?”

He helped her to her feet. She swayed a little and her face was dirty and pale. She clutched at her right hand, obscuring it from his view. She shook her head.

“I am ok. But there are more.” She nodded.

“Indeed.” Solas twirled the staff as fire engulfed the demon. “We must stables this tear.”

Cullen swallowed and nodded, fixing his eyes on the tear. The demons emerged with haste, almost catching him off guard but he bellowed forwards striking them down one by one, as the magic from the two mages swirled around him.

Pandora grimaced from the effort of holding her staff. She discarded it, and shot out magic from her hands, panting from the effort and drains on her energy. She could feel the tear weakening.

“Now!” She yelled outstretching her left hand.

The crackling noise filled the air once more as the green light and sparks flew from her.She grimaced as her hand began to shake. Soon the green light was gone and all that remained of the demons were rags and shards.

Pan collapsed to her knees and sighed with exhaustion.

Cullen kneeled before her and put his hand on her cheek. “Pandora…”

“I am back.” She looked up at Cullen and forced a smile. “Sorry.”

He shook his head and pulled her into his chest. “What happened?”

“I-I couldn’t let Hawke or Alistair stay behind. I just couldn’t. That part of the fade, they would have died or been driven mad.”

“It was dangerous.”

“It was necessary.”

Cullen sighed. “You are back now.”

He looked down at her right hand and frowned.

“Pan, your hand?!”

Pan glanced down wearily at the alarm in his voice. Her right hand had started to play up again.

“What about it?”

“It-it…” Cullen pulled away from her, looking horrified.

Solas stood over them, looking concerned. “It is clawed.”

Pandora glanced down properly. Her hand was shaking and grey, clawed like a demons and covered in dark rags. She blinked and looked up to Solas.

“You can see it now?”

“What is going on?” Cullen demanded. His faced had paled. 

Pandora held the hand to her face. Cullen's face blurred behind it.

“Looks like possession to me.” She looked passed her hand to him now. “Mages aren’t people, this proves it.”

Cullen looked horrified as she spoke the words so nonchalantly. Words he had once said. But before he could speak she slumped forwards into his arms.


	29. Chapter 29

It was bright. Pandora squinted as she began to open her eyes into the bright light. Her skin felt dirty and parched, as she felt a coarse cold wind batter over her. She tried to move but everything hurt. She tried to speak but her voice croaked.

“You are awake.”

She turned her head to the voice and tried to focus her now open eyes. It took her a while to adjust and to realise it was not daylight. It was a lantern that had blinded her. It was night. Solas sat next to her, curiosity and concern clear on his face. Snow fell down softly, only visible in the rays from the lantern.

“Solas?” She all but croaked. His name caught in her throat and she began to cough uncontrollably.

She turned to cough and realised then that she was on the back of a cart. The nighttime scene of darkness next to her rolled a little as the wheels creaked over the snowy floor. The snow crunched satisfyingly underneath the wheels.

“We are nearing our rest point now, Inquisitor. Try and rest for a moment.”

Pandora turned her head back up to look at the lantern swaying and felt herself coughing again. What had happened? Where was she? The last thing she could remember was fighting those demons in the fade for what seemed like an age. Alone and frightened. 

The cart stopped with a rolling thud. Pandora winced as she sat up and she noticed then that she was injured. She looked down at her side, a bloodied bandage wrapped tightly around her. Her right hand went to her side as she winced. Her normal right hand. She frowned thinking back through her foggy memory. She had managed to find a weakness in the veil and exploited it, emerging back in the Approach. Into Cullen and Solas. Her hand was clawed again, but as she stared down at it all she could see and feel was her normal light brown skin. She flipped her hand over before her eyes.

“Pan!” 

Her head shot up to the shout. Her brother came dashing forwards, his armour only half on. He looked tired and paler than usual but a relieved smile crossed his face. Yet someone else behind him caught her attention too. Cullen moved forwards towards her cart. He had dark circles beneath his eyes, slightly rimmed red and his hair was a mess. Uncharacteristically. He did not say a word, but his expression spoke thousands to her. He was confused, worried and relieved all at the same time.

Eduard reached her first.

“You have been unconscious for days now! We have just reached the border with Emprise Du Lion… you had me worried little sister.” He grinned and ran his fingers through his hair. “You are badly injured, do you want a hand?”

He outstretched his hand. Pan nodded slowly, a little confused by his sudden torrent of information. She grimaced.

She stared down at Eduard’s hand and nodded. But as she rose she wobbled, even with his support. It was Cullen who leapt forwards offering his own hand and support. Both the men eased the small injured Inquisitor from the cart onto solid floor. Eduard took the majority of her weight and escorted her towards a makeshift tent. Her eyes met Cullen’s as she passed him. Had he noticed her hand? 

Her brother was still talking to her, but she wasn’t listening. She stared down at her right hand. Before Pan knew it, Eduard was easing her into a wooden chair.

“You need rest.”

“Surely, I have had plenty of rest?”

“You sustained heavy injuries from the battle.” Solas appeared in the tent, his arms behind his back. “You do need time to recover.”

“Where is everyone else?”

Cullen cleared his throat. “The main host of the army is still at Adamant, cleaning the mess. Others have been sent back to Skyhold. We needed to travel lighter and faster than the main host, yet with enough safety to ensure we have little in our path for your safety.”

Pandora nodded slowly taking it in. “Survivors?”

“The majority of our forces made it through, albeit casualties were high on both sides.” 

Cullen offered a weak smile. His eyes flitted to her, taking in her injuries and her face of exhaustion before looking away again. His hand rested on his sword, but his fingers were clenched in a fist. He felt like a failure once again.

“Inquisitor there is something I must ask.” Solas spoke up, pacing before her.

Pan glanced up wearily. “Yes?”

“How long have you carried the Spirit of Hope?”

“What?” Pandora looked up in shock. “You are joking. Aren’t you?”

She looked from Solas and his serious expression to her brother. Eduard stood and looked back at her, his expression unreadable. She then looked to Cullen. He didn’t meet her eyes, but his hand trembled above his sword. Her eyes widened. Was she possessed?

“I am not joking. I have had my suspicions for sometime, and I tried to ask you about it when we first met in Haven. Yet you seemed oblivious to the possibility.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Pan began to shake her head slowly.

“You do.” Solas stopped pacing and looked at her. “You know. You emerged from the tear in Adamant with the hand of a Despair demon. You once showed me it too in Skyhold…”

Pans’ eyes widened. So he had seen the hand, both times. 

“You lied to me?”

“Yes.” Solas replied bluntly. 

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Eduard spoke up, his voice cracking.

Pan began to laugh, exhaustion clear on her face and in her voice.

“I thought I was going mad. Having visions… seeing things. But even if my hand was changing, how would you react?” She brandished at both Cullen and Eduard. “I don’t think I am possessed by a demon, but you- you were Templar.”

Cullen bit his lip and stared at the ceiling of the makeshift tent. 

“You are not possessed.” Solas spoke.

“I am not?” 

“No. I have told you that Spirits are benevolent beings. I believe Hope has always followed you in your dreams and helped in your Harrowing. You told me yourself something told you to use lightning magic.”

Pandora nodded slowly and stared at her hand.

“You also stated that after your fall from the Tower, your eyes changed.” Solas tilted his head. “I think the Spirit saved your life, by giving you some of its power, attaching itself to you.”

“That… is impossible.”

“No.”

Alistair stood in the door of the tent, arms folded. 

“It isn’t. I knew a mage once, a wonderful woman, talented and kind. A Spirit saved her from a near death experience. It is possible. Especially considering you inspire such hope around you.”

“What happened to her?”

“She… gave her life for another.” Alistair looked a little upset. He sighed. 

“So, I am safe?”

“Of course you are safe.” Cullen spoke for the first time. He glanced at her and felt his heart beat faster as she returned his gaze. 

“I meant… safe from possession.”

“I know what you meant.”

“Indeed, you are not possessed and pose no danger to others. Unless you go through trauma that makes your spirit believe there is no hope.” Solas scratched his chin.

“In the fade… I was alone, there were horses… I almost gave up…”

“And I imagine that is when your hand manifest itself?”

Pandora nodded.

There was silence for a moment.

“You are like me.”

Everyone jumps as Cole appears in the tent.

“I sensed something similar within you. Unsure. Scared. Confused. Frightened. You still have Hope.”

Solas nodded slowly. “Yet you are more human unlike Cole, who is more Spirit.”

Cole walked over to her and whispered. “Everything will be alright. Ask them.”

Before he disappeared once more.

“What are you going to do with me?”

Cullen looked puzzled for a moment and looked at Eduard. 

“What do you mean?”

Pan swallowed. “Well I do pose some threat. Who knows what can turn hope into… despair.”

Her leg began to bounce in worry.

“We won’t let that happen.” Eduard stepped forwards and put his hand on her shoulder reassuringly. 

“I think I would like to be left alone, to rest.” Pan glanced up at everyone and forced a smile.

Eduard squeezed her shoulder and nodded. “That is a good idea we still have a couple days of travel left ahead of us.”

Slowly the tent emptied. When she was alone, Pandora heaved a huge sigh and buried her face in her hands. She realised then that her hands were shaking.

“She took it surprisingly well…”

She raised her head listening to the murmured voices of Eduard and Dorian, coming from a nearby tent.

“I highly doubt it, Amatus. It is a lot to take in and comprehend…”

“I wonder how Hope did not turn into Despair when she was in the Blood Cult…”

Pandora stood from her chair, wincing slightly from the pain in her wounds. She found herself wondering the same thing. Surely, her time in the Cult would have eaten away at Hope more so than her fears in the fade or a few nightmares?

She growled and limped from the tent. She didn’t want to be inside, even if it was a tent.

Varric and Hawke looked up from the fire as the Inquisitor limped from her temporary quarters.

“Hey fairest.” Varric smiled. “Good to see you.”

She returned the smile.

“Should you be out… you have got some heavy injuries.”

“I advise you rest.” Hawke nodded.

“I want to get out for a walk. I have spent most the time immobile on a cart, I need to stretch.”

“Well, stay close to the camp.”

Pandora nodded.

She held her side as she walked, and grimaced occasionally. It was dark and the light from the camp only lit part of the surroundings. But the air felt good and she breathed it in, as though it were some drug. Snow crunched under her feet and she relished being back in the cold. She had enjoyed the heat in Adamant, yet even she had found it unbearable. A source of dim light caught her attention as her breath swirled in the moonlit sky. The river had frozen solid, but an orange glow came from the banks. She limped towards it.

“Inquisitor!” Cullen stood hurriedly and moved to her. “You shouldn’t be up and walking.”

He grabbed her arms and supported her to where he had been sitting.

“Why are you out here?”

“Guard duty.”

He grabbed a blanket and flung it around her shoulders.

“I will help you then.”

“You need rest…”

She gave him a stern look. “I don’t really rest Cullen.”

He nodded slowly and sat next to her. They stared at the river in silence.

“You took the news from Solas well.”

Pandora began to laugh bitterly.

“It makes sense. The reason why I survived the fall… I assumed I got lucky and landed on soft ground. But I am struggling to remember exactly what happened. Did I make a pact with this Spirit knowingly? Or did it just assist me?”

“You have no recollection?”

“Non at all. I blacked out and then woke in a tent in the wilds.” Pandora sighed. “Then there is this… This is bothering me. How come this never manifest in the Blood Cult? It has manifest from me facing my fears in the fade and a few nightmares, but not mind control and some of the things I saw in those caves? Whenever I think I understand magic and the fade, it gets thrown back at me.”

Cullen thought for a moment. “You were not under free will in the Cult. Perhaps the very nature of mind control meant that despair could not manifest? Only through the aftermath?”

“… That does make sense.”

Silence fell over them again.

“You said something to me when you came from the tear.” Cullen cleared his throat. “And I read the reports from the others… Do you… fear me? Or at least the Templar side of me?”

Pandora frowned and began to fiddle with her fingers. 

“I do not fear you. I fear what you could have become because of the Order.”

“What is that?”

“A Templar who dislikes mages. We live our lives knowing that most people fear us. I think, I am just scared that the two important people in my life will end up fearing me… And this whole Spirit in me thing is not helping.”

“I will never fear you.”

Cullen turned to look at Pandora.

“You are the bravest and most inspiring person I have met. Nothing will change how I feel.”

Pan turned to look at him but then her eyes widened in horror.

“Cullen you are shivering.”

He shrugged. But before he could protest she tucked the blanket around his shoulders too and then shuffled to close to him.

Cullen inhaled slowly. She smelt of blood and sweat, hints of the usual apricot and herb like smell underneath the musk. She still smelt good. He wrapped his arms around her and brought her to his chest.

“Cullen. Will you promise me something?”

“What?”

He murmured into her hair. He kissed her head softly.

“If… If I become Despair… kill me.”

Cullen froze, his lips on her head.

“You can’t ask me… I could not possibly.”

“Please.” She looked up to him, begging. “If I become possessed…”

“You will not become possessed. We will not let that happen.” He cupped her chin in his fingers. “I will not let that happen. And nor will you most importantly. You are strong.”

He moved his fingers from her chin to under her eyes. She had been silently crying. He began to wipe away her tears.

“It is so much to take in…” 

He sighed and pulled her into a tight hug. He stared over the frozen river and sighed. It had been a long couple of days. Cullen had barely slept since the Battle and had spent most of the travel time glancing at the cart where Pandora lay. He was still processing the information, about the spirit. If he was struggling, he could only just imagine what Pandora must be going through.

“I know. I know. I am here for you.”


	30. Chapter 30

Something was wrong. A small breeze crept in through her open window. The multi coloured glass orbs clinked in a melodic chime above her head, glinting from the distant moonlight. She had dozed off in her bed, a book lay open to her left, her page now lost. Everything seemed so calm, but as she opened her eyes she could sense something was not right. Although, nothing had been right since Lydia had been killed. She and other members of the Circle had spent their time dashing around, collecting the evidence with the help of some of the Templars to prove they were not rebelling. The false news had spread quickly, too quickly. They had read and heard what had happened at Kirkwall, and they did not want to same in Ostwick. They were on edge, every sudden movement resulting in a jump of terror, dreading every knock on the doors to the tower, scanning every letter for hints at if something was coming. They did not know who killed Lydia, nor why. All they did know was that if they did not act, the Templar would annul the Circle.

Pandora looked to her right. Usually she had a view of the Marches, and in the distance there would be Ostwick. The lights from the city in the distance often made it look like it was floating in a mass expanse of water. Sometimes when the plain flooded it did appear as though the city was floating.

Her blue eyes narrowed and she planted her feet on the floor, rising from her comfortable bed. She shivered as her bare feet hit the ground, and grabbed a white cotton shawl to cover her bare shoulders showing in her blue nightdress. Pandora stepped over the piles of notes and books strewn across her room, and made for the window. She stared outside, the night sky was red. She sniffed the air, realising she could smell burning. Her eyes widened as she watched an ember float passed her window.

"What in-?" She looked up and then down and gasped in horror at what she saw outside her window. 

The Tower was on fire. Beautiful orange flames licked the side of the building, slowly climbing higher and higher. Her knuckles turned white from gripping the edge of the window sil, looking over. 

"By the maker."

She pushed herself from the sil and jumped over the piles of books, scrambling and almost falling as she clambered over her bed. She crashed into her door and breathed in deeply, her hand shockingly going to the bronze knob. It was slightly warm. Nausea rose in her stomach and throat, as all possible scenarios ran through her mind. She pushed the door open.

She looked around the corridor. Everything seemed calm. She could hear noises from below, but it did not sound different from the usual noise of the tower. No one was running or screaming and there was no fire. In fact the only person in the corridor was a Tranquil, sweeping the floor with her broom. Had she dreamed the fire?

The eye of the storm. A door crashed open from the stairwell, and the sound of footsteps running and tripping thundered in the corridor. Along with the sounds of screaming. The smell of magic. The smell of burning flesh.

"Everyone RUN!" An apprentice reached the top of the stairs, panting and clutching their side from a stitch. 

"What is going on?" Cael appeared next to her, his eyes wide.

She turned to her elf friend. "I think I saw the tower on fire."

His eyes widened. "Then they have come?"

Other mages and enchanters began to mutter around them. No one was acting upon the apprentices cry.

"Has someone else being killed?"

"Oh Maker no."

The apprentice moved over to one of the Enchanters, and clutched their hand, his forehead beaded with sweat. "We need to leave now."

"Rydell." First Enchanter Ines appeared from the floor above, his staff in hand. He frowned at the young apprentice. "What is happening?"

"It's... it's the Templar. They are here."

The First Enchanter frowned, his grand face impassive. "On whose authority?"

"Annulment."

Gasps. Cries. And a tranquil sweeping the floor. Pandora felt her mouth go dry.

"What of our Templar?"

"They have been dismissed!" The apprentice wailed. "You don't understand they have set fire to the bottom of the building. They are trying to smoke us or burn us out!"

"Everyone calm down." Ines rose his arms and a hush fell across the corridor. "Everyone, escape through the side doors. We meet in the glade to the north eats. Ophelia and Evan, go below and help the apprentices. Senior Enchanters with me, we need to find and save the evidence!"

"But the annulment is happening!" One wailed. "That evidence is pointless now. We will all be branded as apostates and rebels."

"We need to survive this." Ines warned, his voice calming and commanding. "And challenge it. Try and seek out the Divine."

"This is bad." Cael bit his lip.

"What of the others?" Pandora whispered to him hurriedly. 

Cael shuddered. "I... If the Templar are already inside then..."

"Halt mages."

They all turned to the door from where the apprentice had emerged. A group of Templar stood, armour glistening in the candlelight. Their swords were drawn. Pandora felt her knees wobble in fear, a pin like feeling spreading through her body as she looked at their swords. Dripping with blood.

"Looks like we have found the 'Queen bee' Ser." One of them chuckled, voice muffled by the iron helm.

"On whose authority are you here?" Ines demanded. 

"We need no authority. This Circle rebelled. We are here to cleanse it."

"From what, pray tell?" Ines questioned his arms outspread. "We have no blood magic here. In order to annul you need a signature from the Grand Cleric or Divine. Where is this signature?"

"We operate without those shackles." One of the Templar growled.

In a swift movement they grabbed a mage closest to them and brutally shoved a sword through his body, almost slicing him in two.

Screams of horror filled the corridor as the mages began to run away from the Templar. The Templar plucked the mages out of the air, like a toad did with flies. Pandora glanced over. The Tranquil had not moved. In fact she was still sweeping. "Cael that Tranquil will get herself killed." "Quick." He nodded to her and casted a barrier around the pair just in case. They dashed forwards, towards the Tranquil.

"We need to move."

"Why? I haven't finished sweeping." The Tranquil replied in clipped, monotone. 

"Pandora we need to move quickly..." Cael warned, as he watched one of the Templar cruelly slice a mage in two.

Pan dragged her from the broom, and away from the advancing Templar as the pool of blood expanded.

"Enough!" Ines yelled, his composure broken. With an expert twirl of his staff, he crashed it into the floor, sending a wave of mind blast energy into the Templar knocking them back.

He cast multiple barriers around some of the other Senior Enchanters who began to attack the Templar, with blasts of ice, fire and lightning. Pandora stood, watching from behind, the Tranquil still firm in her grasp. And then it was over. The Templar lay on the floor, their armour in the pool of mages blood.

Satisfied that she had pulled the Tranquil a safe enough distance she turned to Cael.

"I need to go down."

"Why? It is suicide! If they Templar have made it here then that means..." Cael stopped talking. He looked into her eyes. "You have decided on it, haven't you?"

Pandora nodded. "The children..."

"Then I shall help you."

"Cael no." She pleaded. "You are needed, your mentor will need your help for the evidence."

"I am just a mage. If someone is more needed it is you!"

"The children who I teach and watch over need me."

"Cael!" The elf turned at the voice of his mentor. "You need to come with me."

"But... Pan it is dangerous."

"It is dangerous for us all now." She urged. "We are now apostates."

Cael gave her a hug. "I will be waiting in the glade. With the others."

"I shall be there. I promise."

He nodded and walked backwards towards his mentor whose staff was drawn looking around frantically.

She turned heading down another floor. Her feet clumsily ran down the stairs, which was odd considering how lithe she would climb the walls. Her hand gripped the wall for support. She emerged on the floor below to see flames licking the ceiling and walls. Her hands went to her mouth in horror as she stifled a scream, tears streaming down her face. Dead bodies lay everywhere. Either charred by flames of stuck with holes. She opened doors into dorm rooms, seeing mages murdered in their sleep. Her heart beat faster, as she realised that they would not have held back against the children. Still crying she pushed through the corridor, the sound of fire crackling all around her. 

From no where a hand grabbed her throat and pinned her to the wall. She struggled, legs flailing uselessly as she clawed at the gauntleted hand which held her in place.

"We have a wandering one here." The Templar chuckled.

"Stop it Harold. I don't like this. This isn't right."

"Shut it. We can have some fun with this one."

"It isn't right Harold. Stop it."

"Please let me go." Pandora choked.

"A bit chubby, but I think we can still have some fun. Look how pretty this one is."

"I said stop it Harold!"

A clank of metal ran through the air. Pandora was released and she collapsed to her knees, gasping air through her lungs relieved. The Templar crumpled into a heap on the floor and she shrank back, eyes wide in horror at what might have been.

"I-I am sorry." The other Templar was looking at her. Not the Templar he had just knocked out cold. "He had been drinking and... and this isn't right. No one has given us the order to do this, at least not the Grand Cleric or Divine. These poor... I am sorry. Please escape."

"W-why did you help me?" She gasped, hand on her throat from the pain.

"The love of my life... she was a mage. Died during the Blight fighting at Ostagar. Mages aren't bad people, and magic isn't that dangerous. This rebellion is getting out of hand and what is happening here is... wrong. Please escape."

"I can't." She shook her head. "The children..."

"Get away from her!" A shout bellowed across the corridor. The Templar stepped back, his arms up to yield. 

Ser Garrett emerged covered in blood, his sword drawn. 

"Yes ser."

His eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"He helped me." Pandora rose to her feet, still massaging her throat.

"Get out." He growled at the Templar. The Templar nodded and ran off through the flamed corridor.

"Why are you still here? You should have evacuated after we sent up the apprentice. Some of the Templar loyal to me remained behind. We have saved as many as we could... lost a few..." Ser Garrett shut his eyes and shook his head. "You should have left!"

"The children. I can't leave them."

Ser Garrett sighed. 

"I have been looking too. They are not here, or in their quarters."

"They will be below!" Pandora cried, eyes wide. "In the library where they are taught."

"Maker... that is where the fire is worst."

"Help me Garrett."

"Of course." He nodded.

Lydias death had hit him the hardest. Pandora had watched how his smile faded. The circles around his eyes deeper, darker and more bloodshot. His hair in tatters, beard unkept. No doubt this would hit him harder. This was his Circle to protect. That is how he saw his duty, and with this annulment he had failed at it. 

They made their way down another floor, into the heart of the flame.

"Shit." She rarely cursed. Pandora rose her hand to the flames. She squinted into the library. "Over there!" 

They ran to the group of children, huddled underneath an overturned bookshelf, their soft cries in the air and tears streaming down their faces.

"Enchanter Pan!" The eldest looked up in relief.

Pan got to her knees and brought them into a hug. "You were not in your quarters, gave me a fright."

"We snuck passed the Templar. To come here." Quinn explained, his face contorted in his attempts to keep a brave face. "They killed..."

"Hush. It is ok. Don't think of that now." She looked up to Ser Garrett. "We are meeting to the north east in the glade."

Garrett nodded. "That was the plan Ines put in place in case of the worst scenario... which is this."

"Do you know the way?"

"You do not?"

"How would I know the way?"

"Point taken." Ser Garrett motioned to her and she passed him the smaller children to carry. "How were you going to get there if not for me?" 

"Use the stars..."

Ser Garrett grunted at her response and shook his head. "You need to think more."

He carried two of the smaller children in both arms. He began to walk away, and she pulled out the other children and ushered them to follow. She stood to follow, but a beam creaked. The fire spiked in a roar of heat and she shielded her face as the beam crashed to the ground, blocking her escape. The children cried beyond the flame and Garrett roared.

"PANDORA!"

"I am ok!" She coughed, the heat licking her face. She backed away. "I will find another escape out."

"I AM NOT LOOSING YOU TOO."

"You won't. I will get out."

She turned and ran just as the floor collapsed where she had stood. 

Pandora ran through the burning library, back out into one of the side corridors. She looked around and smiled, noticing one of the exits. Her mind was racing with her will to survive. Racing as her brain tried to process the destruction she was witnessing, the dead bodies, the smells of death. She turned to the exit and moved towards it. She was conscious of the fire. It was more intense lower down the tower. Her bare feet stopped walking as a gasp escaped her lips. The sound of armour clinking. Three Templar emerged, blocking her path. Her stomach fell, and panic spread through her body.

"Not this way."

She turned on her heel and ran. She jumped over books, burning or dead bodies, avoiding the walls of fire.

"No hiding here."

As she ran thoughts crashed into her head, pounding away. I am going to die here.

Pandora crashed into a side room, and cursed. Dead end. She turned. The three Templar blocked her exit. Their swords and maces were by their sides, as if taunting her at what was about to come. She swallowed.

"I wonder if she has fight in her?" One piqued up.

"She is like a little mouse. Lost in her own field."

"Stay back." She warned.

"Squeak squeak." They laughed.

So she unleashed a torrent of lightning at them. She had never tried it without a staff before, but she let her power surge through her. In fact she had never used her magic to attack anyone before in a real life situation. The sparks made the hairs on her arms stand on end, and she watched their purple beauty thread through the air, and plummet into one of the Templar. He screamed and staggered back, collapsing to the floor.

"Bitch."

She readied herself for another attack, but she paled. Her magic slowly ebbed away. 

"No." She whispered, as she felt her only way of defence and attack melt away as a blue light circled over to her from the Templar. A headache suddenly took root in her head, pounding from the lyrium used to dispel the magic. She stared at her useless hands and slowly edged backwards. 

A fist exploded in her face, knocking her from her feet. She felt blood spurt from her nose and she gasped, struggling to breath. Another punch and then a kick. The remaining two Templar stood around her, beating the defenceless mage into a bloodied pulp. For how long she could never remember. Tears rolled down her face, still feeling useless. The pair of Templars worked together to ensure that dispel was in constant effect. She was powerless, defenceless. She had never been trained in battle. She did not know how to defend herself.

"Not so clever now are ya?" They stood back and smiled at her. 

She felt her ears pop, and a ringing sound in her head. She struggled to open her eyes to see. She rolled onto her front and vomited.

"Off putting."

One of them grabbed her by the hair and dragged her across the room, throwing her into a wall. Pan fell to the floor once more. Through her swollen eyes she spotted the window. She just about managed to pull herself up. The night air was now alive with flames.

"Aw, admiring our view?" The Templar put his head next to hers. 

He then turned and walked back to his friend. She could only hear parts of their muffled conversation but she did not like it. They spoke about their commander. It sounded like he had once been a Templar but was no longer, dissatisfied. They were taking orders from someone other than the Divine, but who even they seemed unsure. Should they kill her or take her to their commander? She looked around, noting how far down the drop was. Surely dying like that, was better than whatever they had in store for her here. 

That was something. She might even survive it.

All she could do was hope.

"Hey! Stop her!"

She felt at peace. Oddly. At least the children had survived, or at least she hoped they had. Garrett was their best chance. 

Pandora was falling, tumbling through the air. Pages from books floated around her, some of them ablaze with fire. Her arms reached above her as she flailed grabbing at something invisible to stop her fall. She didn't want to die. She wanted to live. Her heart hoped she would live. She hoped Ser Garrett had not waited, that he had taken the children far from the Tower. She hoped the Tranquil had left. She hoped that Ines had salvaged something and hoped that despite the dead bodies, most of the mages had made it out alive. Everything seemed to slow down. All she could hear was the ringing in her ears and her slow breathing, as the wind whistled through her nightgown. A light flickered above her. For a moment Pandora registered that she was no longer falling, but hovering.

"Hello Pandora."

"Hello." She murmured back feeling sleepy and woozy from her injuries.

"I have watched you closely since you were a child."

The shape of a glowing woman was before her, also floating in the air outside the burning tower.

"That's nice."

"Despite everything, you have always hoped. I have always been with you. You are dying."

"I thought so."

"Do you want to die?"

"Not really. I never got to say goodbye to Eduard. Or Garrett."

"Let me help you once more."

"Ok. Are you a demon?"

"No."

The spirit of hope reached out and touched her cheek as a flash of purple sparked in the landscape. With that Pandora resumed falling, although slower and hit the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating. Work has been hectic since February which has messed with my writing schedule. One of my wellbeing aims for the summer term is to actually write more, so updates should be back to more regular.  
> Also, I have written 5 different versions of this chapter, the reveal of what happened at Ostwicks annulment and the Spirit of Hope. Sadly, misplaced (don't ask how... I don't know!) all of them. But I haven't really been satisfied with any of them, which is another reason for the delay. I will probably edit this at some point and maybe change parts. I do tend to read through a lot looking for dumb errors and editing slight bits to make it read better. Usually though I am satisfied with the chapters. You guys might think it is ok though, which if that is case I might not edit.
> 
> Thank you for reading this far! I hope you have enjoyed reading and seeing Pandora's journey.
> 
> :)
> 
> G


	31. Chapter 31

"So I really have merged with a spirit."

Pandora spoke to no one in particular. In fact if anything she was speaking to herself, as if to reassure and confirm what Solas had said. But also the memory that had surfaced in her mind. Since the fall of Ostwick, her memory of that day had always ended as she fell from the window. Ended in blackness. The light appeared once more when he had dragged her from where she had managed to drag herself to in delirium. 

Pan hugged herself and stared out over the frozen lake. It glistened in the dim sunlight of the morning. Her breath escaped her mouth in a wisp of ghost like mist. Everything that had happened within the passed day had crushed her more than anything so far. The fears in the fade. The realisation that there was something inside her that could so easily turn to an abomination. But more so was that no one seemed as concerned as she did.

"The spirit of hope." She muttered to herself as she winced.

She glanced at her left hand, the mark glowing a dim green. It hurt a lot more in recent days and she pinned it to the fact that she had escaped the fade, creating her own tear, her own exit. As her memories of her final hours in the Circle crashed around her, she realised that she had never really had chance to reflect or understand, or even comprehend what had happened. Beaten by Templar and almost killed by their brutality, only to fall almost immediately into another hot bed of danger. And then the Inquisition. 

Pandora stared with her purple eyes of hope at the frozen lake, watching the wildlife exist and thrive in their environment with almost a passive gaze. Not really caring. Trying to piece together what she had buried for so long. As the fear demon had said, beauty truly was the cause of most her suffering. The Templar at the Circle surely would have left her well alone if she were another mage.

"Or they would have killed you straight away."

Cole stood next to her watching the wildlife on the frozen lake.

"Pardon?" She tilted her head towards him, a little intrigued but mainly tired, not caring.

"You think that your beauty has caused most your pain. That is false." Cole moved his head left to right in agitation, jittering. "Lady Trevelyan hated you for your blood, not beauty. You were more legitimate than her daughters."

"Yet their hate was so much more than that, without me even knowing or having a way to control it." She retorted, eye starting to twitch from tiredness.

"No. That is where you are wrong." Cole turned to her, his eyes boring into hers. "No matter she would have had the same reaction."

"She smashed a mirror into my face when I was little." Pandora shuddered from the memory of the pain. The only evidence of the event was in her memory and sometimes her nightmares. "If that does not show what she hated about me then-"

"She wanted your blood. More than your looks." Cole urged her to see. "She wanted you gone, as your blood was threatening to her. The Templar would have done exactly the same to you no matter what, as they were the kind of Templar who want to see pain. Inflict pain. Recruited for pain. Hated mages. Evil magic."

Cole shuddered. "And then finally..."

"No." Pandora held up her hand. "I do not want to hear about him."

"But you loved him."

Pandora gritted her teeth, fighting back the tears. 

"No. That was not love. And you know it wasn't such."

"I am sorry, Inquisitor. Forget what I said. Next time I will do better." He spoke mournfully before disappearing all together.

Pandora raised a shaking hand to her face, and flicked a tear away. And another. She was unsure why she was crying. All she had been thinking of was the lake. Perhaps it was because she had never reflected, never truly mourned Ostwick or the loss in Sacred Ashes. Before turning and moving back to the camp, slowly with pained steps. 

They were due to move out soon. Some of the others had already made their way back to Skyhold the day before, but she had been unable. She still limped and winced from some of her injuries. She massaged her twitching eye with one of her fingers, her sigh letting a wisp of air into the cold sky. Their camp had been dismantled, and little evidence remained aside from the charred remains of the fire and the piss stains from some of the troops on the snowy ground.

"Inquisitor." Cullen turned to her as she walked near. "I have been waiting for you."

"Oh?" Pandora wiped a final tear from her cheek, and she hoped Cullen had not seen it. She could not help a faint smile spread cross her lips. "Have you?"

"Yes. I mean, no." He became flustered. She could tell. His eyes wandered from her and his hand shot to his neck. 

"Well which is it?" She pulled her fur cloak further around her neck, feeling the cold slightly. Her smile broadened. 

"I wanted to ask you something."

"You ask me things all the time." She rose an eyebrow, as she did her eye twitched and she winced slightly. 

"We have dealings in Ferelden. I know that right now is not the best time, but maybe when you feel ready you would like to accompany me to deal with them"

"What is wrong?" Her eye twitched again.

"What? No. Nothing is wrong. I would like to explain there. Once you are willing to go."

"I want to go now."

"No that isn't what I meant when I-"

"Let's go now." Pandora moved close to him, massaging her temple. "If anything I would like a break from the Inquisition. Momentarily as this might be. As long as you don't want me opening or closing rifts we go now."

"Are you sure?" Cullen looked down at her, she was still injured and recovering from the information she had been given. He had not wished to ask her in the current time, but he was unsure when they would next have a chance. Or at least he had expected her to delay.

"I would not have said otherwise."

"Commander. Pan!" Eduard appeared, his face full of concern as he saw his sister. "Pan, how are you feeling? Are you ok? Do you need anything?"

"No." She replied curly. It took Eduard off guard for a moment. Pan bit her lip and swallowed realising that he might take her reaction personally, when all she wanted was not to have a big fuss made over her. "I don't need anything. In fact Cullen and I will be detouring through Ferelden before we return to Skyhold. You go on ahead."

"Is that wise?"

"Eduard, it will be fine." Pandora sighed. 

Eduard looked between them and nodded. "You need a break."

"Thank you." She whispered. Eduard neared her and placed his hand on top of her head and ruffled her hair. It should have annoyed her, but for some reason it made her feel comforted. 

"You mean the world to me Pan." Eduard smiled. "If this is what will see you getting some rest, then do it please."

Pandora nodded, unsure how else to react.

"Cullen lets go." 

She neared his horse waiting for him to join.

"I thought you might prefer to walk?" He cleared his throat.

"Why?"

"Horses..." His voice trailed off.

Pandora turned to him and smiled slightly. "Are really not as scary as I have been making out. As long as I ride with you, I am sure I will survive."

She turned to the horse and stared it in the face. 

"I am not scared of you anymore. Beast." The horse whinnied, but she did not flinch. She did not reach out for it either, but she stood, arms folded square on with the creatures that had once rendered her useless.

Eduard looked on and watched as his sister and the Commander heaved themselves onto his horse. Cullen kept the horse steady, while Pandora swung her legs around the animal to sit in the saddle. Cullen quickly followed, seating himself behind her. She was too small to go behind him and too inured to not have support on the ride. The began to move, its hooves pawing the ground. Cullen pulled the reigns so they were facing Eduard.

"Keep yourselves safe." Eduard pointed an accusing finger at the pair, before folded them once more.

"We shall." Cullen pulled once more on the reigns, controlling the horse with such ease. "We are a days ride from returning to Skyhold."

"As are we. Or at least we can delay." Eduard nodded. "It will appear as though this detour never happened."

"Leliana will find out." Pandora added. She had paled slightly on the horse but made no noise of protest.

"Maker watch over you." Eduard raised a hand.

With that the white horse with the Commander and Inquisitor riding sped off along the track surrounding the frozen lake. The sound of hooves pounding the cold, snowy ground disappeared in a distant hum and then finally silence. Eduard watched until there was nothing more to see, than the frigid cold of Emprise du Lion.

"Looks as though she has conquered her fear of at least one thing."

Eduard turned to the mage stood next to him. He smiled and leant back into Dorian. Dorian placed a gentle kiss on his head. Subtle movements. 

"I never thought I would see her on a horse. She is in good hands with Cullen, that might be half the reason why she was willing to actually sit on the thing and ride."

"How are you holding?" Dorian broke from their small embrace, and looked around at Eduard.

He seemed paler than usual, although Dorian thought that might be the snow. He had noticed the dark circles around his eyes develop, his dark hair standing more on end and slightly stubble growth.

"My keen eyes of style, have noticed that as of late you have neglected your usually groomed appearance. Although, I am a fan of your rugged look."

Eduard chuckled, but then quickly sighed and looked up to the sky.

"I was worried about Pan."

"Which I knew."

"But selfishly something has worried me more." He then added as an afterthought. "And I don't usually worry."

"More than your sister having the capacity to become an abomination?"

"Well when you put it like that..."

Dorian smirked and held Eduard by his shoulders to ensure he could look him square in the eye.

"You are allowed to place yourself ahead of others. You matter too. If this is on your mind, I need to hear it."

Eduard sighed. "One day I will inherit the Noble Trevelyan estate. I am the true blood heir. But I have been running from that part of my life... well... forever really. Joining the Templars, now the Inquisition, I am delaying it."

"Why? You would make a fantastic Noble." 

"What if I turn out like my mother? Some vicious scheming.... What if I am made to marry someone? What if... people find out that I like men and women. And that I love you."

Dorian froze his hands still on Eduard's shoulders. He felt Eduard take a huge breath of air through his body and expel it. What could he say to Eduard to make it better? Dorian knew that his own father was not happy with what he called his 'antics'.

"The fade called it Rejection."

Dorian began to nod slowly, as something else Eduard had said echoed in his mind.

"Did you just say you loved me?"

Eduard looked to Dorian and bit his lip, grinning a little to himself and blushing in the cold air.

"Maybe."

"Amatus. That is all that matters. Stop worrying about something in the far off future and focus on the now. I fail to understand how anyone could reject you."

Eduard heaved a sigh.

"I love you, in your tongue, amatus."

The mage and Templar shared a quick kiss, as the morning sun sparkled over the frozen lake.

"What are we going to do when this is all over?"

Dorian ran his finger over Eduards lips, his hand cupping his face.

"We will figure it out."


	32. Chapter 32

She swayed with the rhythms of the trotting horse. Pandora leant back against Cullen and had spent most of the journey staring lazily at the scenes that passed by them. Ferelden still captured her imagination, and she doubted it would ever feel old to her. Part of her still struggled to imagine the land ravaged by the Blight as it had been a decade previous. But there were the occasional reminders. Ruined houses and the smell of rotting foliage, farms lay forgotten and places abandoned. Although few and far between.

Cullen had only spurred the horse into something more than a trot twice. The first time, wolves howled in the hills surrounding the Frostbacks. With a kick of his legs and the strong grip of his hands, arms tensing he urged the horse into a gallop. Pandora had let out a small squeak of discomfort- she was still unsure about the creatures. 

The second time was bandits, in the distance. That time she did not let out a sound, but her hands had gripped the front of the saddle tighter. The horse trotted along the side of a body of water. Pandora listened to the gentle ripples from the streams feeding the water and the hums from the bugs floating around. Her eyes widened, as a firefly fluttered passed her eyes, blinking light into the scene. 

"Where are we going?"

"You will find out soon."

"Why?"

Cullen laughed. "You will find out soon."

"I feel so relaxed." She heaved a sigh and closed her eyes, her head resting against his chest plate. It was refreshingly cool on her skin.

"I do admit, I never thought you would get close to a horse, let alone ride it."

"I am still not entirely comfortable with the beasts." She admitted. "But when you face a huge fear demon in the shape of a huge horse... and defeat it. I don't know. They just don't seem as bad anymore."

"Your resilience always amazes me. It is truly something remarkable."

They rode in a comfortable silence for a while, the hooves of the horse hitting the earth and the sounds of running water swept over her. 

"Cullen?" Her head was leant against his chest, and she felt a little drowsy. 

"Yes?"

"In the fade, the fear demon went through everyone's fears. Brutally."

"I read the reports from the others accompanying you. It must have been difficult for all." Cullen frowned, remembering Hawke's and Alistair's in particular. 

Alistair's had been an almost constant ramble, hard to decipher and make slightly coherent. With Hawke's it was hard to separate his humour and jokes from the reality. But it had been clear even to Cullen, that it had been trying for them.

"We came to a graveyard with everyone's fear on a gravestone. I saw yours."

"Oh?" 

"It said addiction."

She looked ahead at the path in front of the horses head as mist closed in. She could feel Cullen tense slightly behind her. He laughed bitterly.

"Accurate. I wonder what the abomination would have said to me, if I had been in the fade?"

"You battle that fear everyday Cullen."

"And it leaves its mark."

"Everyday. Every hour and every minute. Every second." She gripped his arm and squeezed it, turning her head to look up at him. He was looking straight ahead, assessing their surroundings almost constantly. But when he felt her move he glanced down. "That is true resilience. And bravery. If you ever need someone to fight it with you, I am here."

Cullen's scarred lips curled into a smile.

"You help me fight it everyday, hour, minute and second without even realising you are helping." He planted a gentle kiss on her lips.

Pandora shivered in delight, as he pulled away and slowed the horse to a stop.

"We are here."

Pandora leapt from the horse and landed on the soft ground. Mist licked the air around them, skimming the surface of the rippling lake. Cullen jumped from the horse and tethered it to a post near a jetty. 

"Where are we?"

"You walk into danger everyday, I wanted to take you away from that. Even if only for a moment. Maybe poorly timed with everything..."

"I would say perfectly timed."

Cullen walked along the jetty, smiling to himself and sighing to breath in the fresh air. Pandora followed him and watched as he leant against the post of the jetty. She noticed a lamp perched on a box, and with a move of her hand flames sparked inside casting a faint glow in their immediate surroundings. 

"I grew up not far from here. This place was always quiet."

"It is." Pandora nodded, staring around. "It is nice to here myself think... Nice to not have the constant requests from people. Did you come here often?"

"I loved my siblings. But they were very loud, so I came here to clear my head but they always found me eventually." He smiled at the fond memories. "It would usually end in a game of hide and seek."

"You were happy here?"

"I was and still am."

"It is beautiful."

Her eyes caught another firefly floating in the air. Her hand shot up to trace it or try and entice it to land on her finger. Cullen watched her movements of awe closely. The way her mouth opened slightly in concentration, the way her eyes widened in wonder the purple almost glowing. He was pleased to see that she seemed more relaxed. Despite the bandage still wrapped around her waist.

"The last time I was here, was the day I left for Templar training. Branson gave me this. He said it happened to be in his pocket but he said it was for luck."

Pandora looked at a coin which Cullen had in his hand. It was golden and shone in the faint glow cast by the lamp.

"Templars are not supposed to carry such things. Our faith should see us through."

She glanced to Cullen, and let out a chuckle of surprise. "You broke the orders rules? I am shocked."

"Until a year ago I was very good at following them. Most of the time. This was the only thing I took from Ferelden that the Templars did not give me."

"I want to hear about some of these other times of you not following rules."

He walked to her, taking her hand in his own. His eyes pierced into her own, and she felt butterflies rise in her stomach and electricity shot through her body from his touch. It was warming.

"Perhaps one day I shall tell you. But humour me. The events of the past few days have proved that you face difficulties, life or death, and we still don't know how many more you must face before the end. A bit of luck would not hurt."

"Wait. You want me to have it?"

Cullen smiled, his lip curling to the right of his face and nodded.

"I can't possibly take something that means so much from you." Pandoras eye widened. "Your brother gave this to you and I don't want your luck to run out."

"Keep it." He urged, placing the coin in her gloved hand and closing her fingers around it. "My luck shan't run out. Not now I have some."

He pulled her close to him, his arm wrapped around her waist, but lightly so not to hurt her where she was injured. His other hand stroked her face, cupping her cheek and gently pulling her to him. She blushed, casting her eyes down at his hand and moved. Her lips touched his own and she kissed him. 

"Come with me. I want to show you something else."

He pulled from her but he kept hold of her hand. She smiled and let him lead her away from the lake, up a slight verge.

"This is where I grew up."

"Honnleath." Pandora stared around at the ruined village, reclaimed by nature.

"My family never returned after the Blight. Mia always said it held too many memories of our parents. I do miss it, it was a more carefree time."

"What do you miss most?"

"All of us together." Cullen admitted. "I don't write to my siblings as often as I should. I am too busy. But I do care for them, deeply."

"I could not imagine of a better childhood than one in a place like this. It is beautiful, yet surely it was more so when people lived here."

"For such a small village there was always something happening. Always the smells of baking bread, stews and so many dogs."

"It must have been hard to adjust to Templar life."

"Maybe so. But I wanted that life once. When I was younger. So I did not mind."

"I hope you don't mind me asking." Pandora cast her inquisitive eyes to Cullen. She was always curious about the younger version of Cullen. It was hard to imagine him as anything other than the man he was now. He looked slightly taken aback for a moment.

"Oh maker, what is it?" He chuckled an eyebrow raised.

"When you were younger... did you ever have any past relationships? You mentioned you didn't leave anyone special in Kirkwall.. but..." She trailed off, blushing slightly from her abrupt question but also not too sure how to finish off her sentence.

"No. No one in Kirkwall. I did have... I would not say they were relationships. I liked a circle mage in Kinloch Hold."

"What was her name?"

"Surana. Nothing ever happened. But she was nice, she used to talk to me and laugh sometimes. Which was rare."

"What happened to her when the Blood Mages tried to take over?"

"She was killed." Cullen sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"The desire demon used her to try get to you didn't it?" Pandora asked, horrified.

Cullen nodded and closed his eyes. 

"Then there was a Templar recruit in training. She was Tern Couslands sister. But once again, amounted to nothing."

"Was I your first kiss?" Pandoras hand shot up to her lips.

Cullen grinned, slightly bashful. "Perhaps. What about you?"

"I did not have anyone in the Circle. I had a friend called Cael... I suppose there might have been something, but we were close friends. Though we did once play a game, some of the apprentices. At night we would smuggle some wines and food into our dormitories and sit around, playing games. One of those was a kissing game."

"A kissing game?" Cullen raised an eyebrow, arms folded. "Life in Ostwick certainly compares well in contrast to the Circles I knew! Do you miss that life?"

Pandora sighed. "I-I miss the innocence? And some of the faces. But I have been taken from a Circle now. I... would hate to go back inside and be locked away."

She spread her arms wide, the mist circling them. 

"There is so much of Thedas I still have not seen. Been locked away like that was not much of a life, I know that now. I have been taken out of the matchbox into the world beyond. I don't want to be put in it again."

"I would never let anyone lock you away again." Cullen muttered.

Pandora turned to him and smiled. He turned to her and pulled her once more into his strong embrace. She sighed as her hands moved to his back. She felt safe with him. She felt as though he had almost been designed to fit her close to him, her head perfectly fell to his chest.

"I do want to go back one day though. To see what remains of the Circle, maybe even Ostwick itself as I never saw the city."

She murmured into his chest plate.

"Maybe the next time you need a distraction?"

She looked up to him. "You would have to come."

"Oh?" He smirked. "Is that an order?"

"Yes. I would want you there as well."

"How could I possible refuse you?"

He murmured as her lips touched his. They forgot everything as they kissed. For that moment, it was just them. Pandora forgot about her mark, the anchor which still throbbed a little. She forgot about the spirit which had merged with her. She forgot that was the Inquisitor and he her Commander. She forgot about the worries and problems that swirled in her mind, her own and that of Thedas. It was just Pandora Trevelyan and Cullen Rutherford. Their hearts racing from their hungry kisses. Just them. Surrounded by mist and dancing fireflies.


	33. Chapter 33

Skyhold was abuzz with movement. People crowded around the entrance, jumping to try and get a good view of the gates. Some pushed through to get to the front of the crowd of nobles, soldiers and civilians. Duties momentarily forgotten.

Pandora stood at the front of the crowd, her arms folded and staring ahead waiting. Next to her were her advisors. Cullen was grumbling about the lack of work ethic from those gathered around, but Leliana hushed him with an amused smile, her hands clasped behind her back. Josie was furiously scribbling her pen on her notepad, the candle extinguished. Some of the others were close by too, staring their heads eagerly. Sera looked mildly bored and stared at her fingers nails in thought, Bull leant against the wall showing signs of interest and Hawke stood with Varric, both arms folded. Vivienne held her head high, Dorian next to her. Blackwall was nowhere to be seen. Nor was Solas.

Fiona hung back amongst the crowd, peering over but keeping a watchful eye on what was going to happen. Her eyes flicked between the gate and a man stood with Pandora.

"The wait is killing me!" Alistair declared.

"Stop moaning." Leliana sighed. 

"I am not moaning." He retorted. "Do you know how long it has been?"

"Yes. I do know Alistair."

He sighed. "Sorry Leliana. I know you are good friends."

"It should be quite a reunion."

"Indeed." Morrigan's voice joined theirs. The mage stood with the main group, one arm folded.

"Ah. Morrigan." Alistair bristled slightly.

"I take it you don't get on?" Pandora broke her gaze from the distance to look at the pair.

"No." Morrigan admitted bluntly. "Twas never friendship. Mayhap a more suitable term is tolerance."

"You never tolerated me." Alistair quipped back.

"That is so."

"Why are you here?"

"Alas, my duty is as Ambassador for the Empress of Orlais. The Empress takes great interest in our guest. But also to see a friend."

"I saw Morrigan in a ball gown Alistair." Leliana smirked. Morrigan glared at the spymaster with such intensity that Pandora was sure it might kill her.

"I thought you would never be caught dead in a gown." Alistair laughed.

A lone figure appeared on the horizon. A hush fell over those gathered by the gate. A woman slowly came into view, a cloak pulled around her tightly, her hood keeping the cold wind from her face. Alistair was still. The stillest Pandora had ever seen him be and he seemed to stop breathing. He edged forwards slightly, his eyes fixed on the figure. The woman pulled the hood from her head, as she moved through the portcullis. Her ears pointed upwards, a few piercings decorating her lobes. Her features were chiseled and hardened, a scar that resembled a claw ran down her face on her dark skin and her brown hair was pulled half back, some of it braided. Her green eyes fixed on Alistair.

"Isolde." He ran towards her, spinning her into his arms and embracing her in a hug.

Isolde Tabris, Hero of Ferelden smiled resting her head on his shoulder.

Pandora cleared her throat and moved forwards, closely followed by her advisors and Morrigan. The movement caught the attention of Tabris, who glanced to them, breaking from Alistair. But he did not notice. His eyes remained firmly on her, as though afraid she was going to disappear. Her Grey Warden armour shimmered in the light and clinked slightly as she moved forwards.

"You must be the Inquisitor." Her voice was heavy with the Denerim accent. "Leliana has told me much of you. And I have heard much about you too on my travels. Pleasure to meet you."

"No the pleasure is all mine." Pandora said in earnest. "You are such an inspiration. The crowd gathered here attests to that."

"Thank you for welcoming me here." Tabris looked around. "I will offer my help however I can."

"Anything you give will be more than enough."

Tabris nodded and then settled her eyes on Leliana. The two friends hugged.

"How is Schmooples II?"

"He is doing well. You need to visit some time, after this is all over."

"Of course. I did not understand why you didn't bring him here with you."

"He doesn't travel well." Leliana sighed. "And we are at war. It would be unfair."

"Odd considering his father travelled fine."

Tabris then turned her attention to Josie, she nodded her head and smiled. "Lady Josephine, you are more beautiful than Leliana described."

Josie giggled and blushed. "Lovely to finally meet you. Leliana talks about you a lot."

"I do not." She protested.

Tabris grinned and then looked to Cullen. "Nice to meet you again Commander. Under better circumstances."

He nodded his head.

"And Morrigan!" Tabris smiled warmly at the mage. "Court life did not suit you?"

Morrigan smiled. Pandora was taken aback. She had rarely seen Morrigan smile as such.

"A settled life did not suit you either."

The pair laughed.

"Mother..."

Morriagn spun around as a small boy pushed his way through the crowd. Kieran stared up at his mother and then looked to the others. 

"Who is she?"

"This is Tabris. A close friend."

Tabris' eyes widened, her green eyes frozen on the small pale boy. Morrigan looked uncomfortable for a moment, casting her gaze to the floor. Tabris knelt down.

"Hello. Who are you little man?"

"Kieran. Nice to meet you." He offered a hand.

Tabris chuckled and took it, shaking it. "And you."

"You are the Hero of Ferelden."

"That I am."

"Many speak of you, you are seen as a hero."

Cullen turned and ordered the crowd to disperse back to work. The entrance slowly emptied as soldiers returned back to training or patrols, and the nobles walked the steps heads bowed to each other muttering. Fiona remained, slight rooted to the spot, staring between Tabris and Alistair. Someone else had stayed too. Someone dressed all in black.

"So that's him? I thought he'd look more... I don't know, demonic? Tentacles and fiery breath." Alistair crossed his arms.

"He is a normal boy Alistair."

"Uh-huh." He frowned. "What does he know about how... he was made?"

"He knows his father was a good man. I thought you deserved that much."

Tabris stood, smiling at Morrigan and took Alistair's hand giving it squeeze. She turned her fiery green eyes to him.

"He's changed you." Alistair chuckled softly.

"Don't be absurd." Morrigan scowled, before ushering Kieran away. "Go back to the garden and I shall be along shortly."

Morrigan swallowed and looked at the pair. 

"I am... I apologise."

She turned and followed him up the steps towards the gardens.

Tabris seemed to be nibbling at her lip, green eyes filling with emotion. Alistair looked down at her face and pulled Tabris into a side hug, planting a kiss on her forehead. Leliana closed her eyes briefly. She knew of their struggle.

"Well..." Tabris let out a small cough and then grinned around her. "I have travelled for some time. I want a drink."

"I like this elf." Iron Bull spoke from the wall, a cheeky grin spreading his lips.

"And I want to personally thank the person who pulled this idiot from the fade with a drink." She jabbed her thumb into Alistair. She rolled her eyes at Pandora.

"Ow."

"And get to know this Inquisition." She looked around. "Alistair is buying the drinks."

"Not all of them..." He muttered.

"Not so fast. You are mine." 

Everyone jumped. The cloaked figure had suddenly appeared behind Tabris. Everyone jumped except Tabris. She reacted quickly. Cullen had only just reached for the hilt of his sword, Alistair for his own. But the elf spun around, grabbing the hooded figure by their black cloak and flipping them over onto the floor, before pulling a dagger out to their neck.

She grinned down at the man. An elven man stared back at her, his hands up in surrender.

"You should know better by now Zevran."

"I thought maybe I could the better of you this time." He spoke in an Antivan accent. 

"Despite the fact you single handedly destroyed the Crows, you still can't sneak up on me." She stood and offered a hand to him.

Cullens posture of tension eased. Alistair laughed and clapped Zevran around the back. 

"Your skills as useful as ever."

"At least I can talk to women, without rambling about lampposts, no?"

Alistair turned red, but then let out a laugh. "You have me there."

"Lampposts?" Josie frowned.

"I shall tell you later." Leliana rose an eyebrow in amusement.

"So this is your most trusted agent?" Cullen asked Leliana.

"Indeed."

Fiona watched them closely as the group moved from the entrance up the stairs towards the tavern. She watched Alistair the closest of them all and smiled to herself. Before turning back to the library.


	34. Chapter 34

“And that was my first kill.” Tabris wiped her sleeve over her mouth, setting her brimming mug of ale on the hard wooden table with a resounding thunk. “It was my easiest. The bastard deserved it. Duncan then conscripted me into the Wardens.”

“That was deep.” Hawke whistled, shaking his head while swigging his own ale.

“Is life in all Alienages so?” Pan held a hand to her mouth in shock.

Tabris nodded, sighing sadly. “Mostly yes. Denerim was meant to be one of the better ones.”

“Is your cousin… is she-?” Pan struggled to find the words.

“She is now running the Alienage. Shianni is one of the strongest people I know.” Tabris smiled, knowing the words Pan could not quite string together. “It took me a while to not hate humans… or at least fear them slightly.”

“I remember.” Alistair nodded. “You were really quiet the first time we met. It was a little awkward actually, I kept rambling about things and you just looked at me in silence.”

“You are just odd Alistair.” Tabris snorted through her drink.

“Elves. Mages. Thedas has its share of communities or peoples who are driven to the edges, as something less. Regrettably.” Dorian added.

“People when driven to these edges often react.” Zevran stared around those gathered on the table, his Antivan accent thick. “Killing nobles for example.”

Tabris raised her mug. “Bloody good job I did.”

“Or blowing up chantries.” Hawke added. 

“Or joining a dark group of assassins.” Alistair grinned at Zevran who smirked in reply.

“And then single handily destroying said group.” Leliana folded her arms, leaning back in the chair a look of mild amusement on her face.

“Only House Arainai.” Zevran pointed out.

“You certainly have been busy since we killed that Archdemon.” Tabris nudged him playfully, before turning her attention to Pan. “So Inquisitor. A nice set up you have here. But I am interested in this mark on your hand.”

She nodded at her left hand.

“Other than it sparkles green?” Dorian sipped his spiced wine.

“The more green the better.”

Pandora looked down at her left hand. “There is little to say. I believe it was meant as a way to attack the heavens, but I got in the way. It can shut the rifts that appear, which is bringing stability slowly back…”

“Give yourself some credit.” Tabris sighed. “You are shutting those rifts.”

“Well… not really…”

“You saved the group at Adamant. You chose to save both Hawke and this idiot, and then actually managed to escape the fade.” Alistair seemed to open his mouth as if in protest but shut it again. “That was you.”

“… I wouldn’t be able to do it without the mark, or those around me.”

“Quizzy is shiny, innit.” 

Everyone looked under the table to see Sera slumped there, mugs of ale around her, head resting on one of the table legs.

“She is shiny.” Tabris agreed. “Why is she under a table?”

“The tiny elf can’t hold her drink.” Iron Bull laughed.

“I can sugar tits.”

Tabris then peered back under. “I know you.”

“Nah, nah you don’t.”

“I do. You were one of the orphans in Denerim, before I left. I told you a story about-”

“Pfffft.”

Tabris shrugged her shoulders and returned to look at Pan.

“I can offer you assistance in your trials Inquisitor. If this thing that attacked you wants to attack the heavens we need to stop it. It is the least I can do for what you have done.”

“The Blight, the rebellions and wars and now this. When will we get that quiet life we have always talked about?” Alistair grinned.

“You would get bored.” Tabris raised an eyebrow at him, her mug of ale nursed between her two hands. “You would end up being one of those old fat men, telling stories to the children about the good ole fights.”

"A good one I would make too."

“Thank you Tabris. And you Alistair.” Pan nodded to them. “Your assistance will be greatly needed and appreciated.”

“I can offer assistance as well.” Hawke placed his mug down. “I think I might even owe you my life.”

"Thank you Hawke." Pan smiled at him.

“As do I!” Alistair nodded.

“You don’t have to keep trying to better me Alistair.” Hawke quipped. “You can try all you want, but you won’t be.”

“I have royal blood.”

“That you ran from.”

“I didn’t want to be the King. Could you imagine the restrictions? The pomp?” Alistair then looked to Tabris. “I wasn’t willing to give up what I had to sate a bloodline.”

Tabris seemed to blush, but hurriedly rose the mug to her lips.

 

*

 

Pandora left the tavern and stepped into the candle light bathed courtyard of Skyhold. She breathed in the fresh mountain air, clearing the stuffiness of the tavern. A noise to her right caught her attention. She looked up to the battlements.

Two figures were embracingg on them, a female elf leaning against the wall, while a man cupped her face in his hands as they kissed in the cool darkness.

“I missed you.” She heard Alistair whisper. 

“And I you.” Tabris replied.

“Did you find it?”

“No not yet, but I shan’t give up.”

Pan watched as they walked along the battlements, hand in hand, heads tucked into each other in perfect symmetry. She found herself fiddling with the coin- Hewitt had made it into a necklace for her, and it hung around her neck, the cool metal a reminder about the peace in Honnleath. She looked to his tower, wondering. Pan knew he would drop everything for her if she went, but she knew also that he must be very busy with the reports, of which there were no doubt many after Adamant. She didn’t want to add to his workload.

She sighed wistfully and moved towards her own rooms. She walked through the Great Hall and marvelled at how much it had come along. How it seemed fit for a King or Queen. The fires flickered in the braziers, her footsteps echoing around the empty hall. She pushed open the heavy wooden door and began to walk up the stone steps to her quarters.

A movement caught her attention further up the stairs. She raised her head. Cullen had been sitting on the final step nearest her door. As soon as he heard her approach, he jumped to his feet.

“I-I erm…” He stammered, looking a little bashful.

“Have you been waiting for me?” Pan froze, one leg on the step above.

“Yes.” He admitted.

“How long for?”

“Not too long.”

“Why didn’t you just go in? I always just barge into your tower.”

“I wouldn’t call it barging in. You always arrive when I am inside. It would be rude of me to break into your quarters without permission especially since I have never actually been in them.”

“In the future, you don’t need to wait for me.”

Cullen smiled.

“I was going to go and see you, but I thought you would have a lot of work.”

“I do.” Cullen admitted. “But I wanted to see you.”

Pandora felt a big warm beam cross her lips. Cullen watched as the smile reached her eyes, shining a beautiful hue of violet.

"This war won't last forever. When it started I hadn't considered much beyond our survival. But things are different now."

Pan remained rooted, unsure of where Cullen was taking their conversation or what he wanted.

"What do you mean?"

"I find myself wondering what will happen after." He looked at her then, truly looked at her, his eyes peaking into her soul. His hand reached for her cheek, she closed her eyes and leant into his touch. "When this is all over, I won't want to move on... not from you."

"But I don't know what you- That is if you, ah..."

He turned away.

"Cullen, do you really need to ask? Surely you know the answer."

Pandora broke from her stance and moved forwards. She curled her hands around his neck, standing on her toes to reach him properly and pulled him down to her. As they kissed, her wrapped his hands around her and lifted her up to him. His hands wrapped in a firm grip on her bum, squeezing only slightly. It sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine. She curled her legs around his torso, still absorbed in the kiss, as he kicked the door open to her quarters upstairs.


	35. Chapter 35

"If you ever fall, I will be there to catch you, always. That is my promise."

They lay cocooned by pillows and throws as the fire before them crackled, dimming slightly in a warm glow. Pan had her head nestled beneath his armpit, and she marveled at how perfectly they seemed to fit together, like a puzzle finally complete after years of having something missing. He was warm his skin slight moist, as his fingers traced over her own skin. Goosebumps rose across her light brown body, and she shivered in the delight. Her body ached. Yet it ached with pleasure. Cullen murmured into her forehead, kissing her dark hair gently, his lips lingering longer than usual. She could still feel the remnants of him on her, the way his fingers and cradled her face, moving down with fire to her body, their bodies pressed against each other and finally the trail of his kisses, followed by them becoming one.

"As I you, Cullen." She kissed his torso, the closest thing to her.

With that she stood from their safety, their own private space created in a moment of love and passion, and wrapped a throw around her body. A smile spread across his face, lifting his scar slightly.

"Where are you going?"

"To get a drink, if you must truly know!" She pushed away his pawing hand with a playful smile. "Would you care for something?"

"Yes, but only if that is truly why you stood."

She gazed back at him. He stared at her, absorbing her entirely. Dancing in his copper eyes was not lust, nor passion. She saw staring back at her admiration but also something she had never knew before. Perhaps it was love. 

"Was that you first time?"

He seemed to blush, only looking away sheepishly for a moment. "Yes."

Pandora nodded, hoisting the throw up her shoulder. The wind gently waltzed into her room from the open balcony door, moving her hair. With her spare hand she tucked strands behind her ear, before grabbing two goblets and pouring water from the jug on her desk. 

"It was mine too."

"But I thought...?" Cullen stared at her for a moment, unsure of the words, embarrassed by what he saying. "Not that it matters!"

"You are right to be curious."

"I am?" He seemed confused. He rolled onto his front, his back peeking from behind the throws, his bottom hidden by the various colours but raised high from the floor. "Your past does not dictate your current self, nor the way I see you."

"But you deserve to know." She turned to look at him. "I thought I loved a man once. I thought I was crazy in love. I did things for that love and honestly, I don't know what was controlled by Blood Magic or my odd notion of love. Yet I know one thing- I only had kisses stolen from me. Nothing else. To which, I suppose, I am grateful for."

"Grateful?" Cullen seemed a little angry. "No. Don't be grateful. Nothing should ever be stolen. Not one single thing. You decide what you give and only you. Anyone who breaches that is undeserving."

Pandora clasped her fingers over the rim of the two goblets and stared down at her desk. She tilted her head for a moment. The mirror reclaimed from the caves near Antiva lay still wrapped in cloth on the top of her desk. Had she forgotten to place it back inside? In fact she had failed to give it to Solas, with all that had happened. She frowned at it for a moment, but then tore her eyes away, moving back towards Cullen. She passed him a goblet and he took it, his eyes barely her.

"I will always be there for you. You don't need someone to protect you, you are strong enough by yourself. But some of the burdens you bear... Perhaps I might help."

Pan leant down and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, as she placed herself near him once more.

"You have your burdens too, Cullen."

"Which you have helped with." He pointed out. "I believe truly, that without you, I would be back on Lyrium."

"I doubt that." She rose an eyebrow as she sipped the water. "You are stronger than you give yourself credit."

Cullen stared into the fire for a moment, and she watched his profile carefully. His face was as though the Maker had sculpted it, near perfection.

"How did you get that scar?"

He glanced down at her, purple eyes bearing up at him in wonder.

"This one?" He pointed to his lip.

She nodded.

He began to chuckle. "I suppose it is not entirely funny. I was not a... nice person when I was a Templar. Kinloch Hold had molded me into what some would say is the perfect Templar- angry, with a hatred of mages."

"Blood magic can do that to people."

"Yet it is no excuse for what I let happen and the things I said and did." His eyes flickered for a moment with darkness. "I said some unpleasant things about mages not being people, not human. In front of the Champion of Kirkwall."

"Hawke? His sister is a mage and his friends... I bet that did not go down well."

"It really did not. So he punched me. First time I met him."

Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth, as she began to shake. Cullen looked at her in surprise.

"Pan, are you ok?"

A peel of laughter tinkled from her. "I should not laugh... But I can just see it happening, as clear as day in my mind."

Cullen smiled, as he watched her giggle next to him. The coin he had given bounced on her bare skin, hanging in a chain around her beautiful neck. He pushed her onto her back, rolling body on top of hers. He planted his lips on hers, in a desperate kiss. She returned it. He then pulled away, his arms locked either side of her face. She let out another nervous giggle. He moved his head close to hers, touching his nose with her own and breathing deeply.

"You mean the world to me."

With that she pulled him close to her, as they embraced once more, bare skin and fingers caressing. The world and chaos beyond was forgotten.

 

****

Mirrors. Lots of mirrors. Reflecting the scenes of her life. A small child, abused by her step mother and sisters. A small child, dancing and playing swords with her brother. Conjuring a storm. A small child in the circle for the first time. Taking her harrowing. Fire and burning. Fire and falling. Fire and Templars. Then the blood, and pain. The control, the false love. The breach in the sky, and the Temple blowing as those around her fell. The Inquisition. Lying with Cullen. And finally. The mirror. On her desk, pounding, burning a hole in her mind.

Pandora woke screaming. Her right hand shaking as she screamed in agony.

"Inquis- Pandora!?" Cullen cried next to her. He stared at her in shock. Her whole right hand was gripped by the demon- shaking in a mass of darkness, the wisps curling like steam around her arm. Her purple eyes stared in shock and horror, as she screamed.

Cullen jumped from the bed, pulling his tunic over his body, yanking his trousers over himself and wrapping her in throws and whatever else he could find. He cradled her in his arms, as she screamed, her arm shaking.He noticed the anchor on her left hand glowed a bright green, and seemed to throb throughout her left arm. He murmured words of reassurance into her hair, as he ran down the stairs of her quarters, kicking open her door- not caring it splintered. She was still screaming. He ran towards the opposite end of the Hall, not noticing Vivienne rouse from her bed, and peer over the balcony, concern on her face. As he kicked open the door to Solas' room, he did not care he had woken the elf from a slumber in his chair.

"What-?"

"Her arm!" He yelled.

Solas nodded. Cullen pushed off his books, and potions from his table with his arms as he placed her down, still screaming.

"Fasta vass." Dorian covered his mouth with his hand, as he appeared in the doorway staring at Pan. His face and hair showing the signs of only just wakening.

"That commotion, it was enough to wake all of Skyhold, what on... Oh my!" Vivienne gasped.

"Help me." Solas inclined his head at the pair.

Cullen drew back from the table, as the mages gathered around her.

"Tell me what happened?" Solas looked to him.

"We were sleeping together, when suddenly she woke, screaming..." He ran shaking fingers through his hair, his own addiction and withdrawal forgotten.

"The Fade." Dorian looked at the other mages, as she still screamed. "Dreams."

"The way demons can access Thedas is through mages, in particular when we go into the fade, or our own dreams? You think the spirit is corrupting in her dreams? Is that even possible darling?"

"Yes." Solas confirmed. "That is the only explanation."

"Pardon?!"

"When she sleeps." Dorian turned to Cullen. "Perhaps depending on her dream, depending on what she encounters in the fade dream world, that might corrupt the spirit within her, turn it more towards despair. This has only happened when she had a long exposure in Adamant to the fade."

"And a few other times, after some particularly vivid dreams." Solas confirmed.

"I don't like the idea of you spying on dreams."

"When she does dream, they are loud." Solas growled. "I do not spy."

"Stop squabbling." Vivienne commanded. "We need to stop this spreading, the anchor is reacting to this too."

Cullen watched, feeling helpless. Dorian looked at him, as though reading his mind. "Cullen, you can help. Stand by her and talk to her."

He moved forwards, standing near her head, which was thrashing around. He placed a shaking hand on her face, stroking her skin softly, whispering words into her ear. A mixture of lights emitted from the mages, as they used healing and other kinds of magic, to stop the anchor but also try and snap her from whatever trance she was in.

"Come back to me." He whispered in her ear, his eyes shut as she stroked her soft skin. "Please, Pandora. Don't let hope be defeated. Come back to me. Please."

It felt like an eternity, as he kissed her face, stroked her skin and whispered into her ear. He remembered what she had whispered to him after Adamant- that were she to succumb to the demons, she wanted him to kill her. It made him shiver, but more determined to call her back to him. After that eternity, her felt a shaking hand grasp his own. He opened his eyes. Pandora stared up at him in horror, her purple eyes wet from tears.

"C-cullen?"

He let out a laugh in relief, and buried his head into her hair.

"Festis bei umo canavarum." Dorian muttered, smiling slightly.

Vivienne visually sagged, her hands resting on the wooden table, her head bowed. 

"What happened?"

"Inquisitor, it is getting worse." Solas spoke plainly, his eyes narrowed at her for a moment. "When you sleep and dream in certain ways... it is giving despair more of a chance."

"When I dream?" She frowned.

"Indeed. You are more vulnerable. If your dreams become too dark, hope feels as though there is not much left to fight for."

"How do you know this?"

"Think." Solas urged her. "When have you had these attacks of your hand changing?"

She frowned, as she sat up shaking, staring at her now normal hand. They had always followed nightmares, or prolonged exposure to the fade. She buried her head in her hands.

"I thought I was getting better with the sleeping."

She looked to Cullen. He had paled, but his hand moved to her shoulder gripping it tightly. Her left hand, no longer glowing green clasped his.

"Might I suggest something herbal to try and control this?" Dorian looked between the mages.

"Awareness?" Vivienne tilted her head.

"I have the dust and mushrooms as required ingredients." Solas nodded.

"This might help, but what about the long term?" Pandora cast her eyes, with heavy bags beneath at them all. "I cannot rely on this all my life, these remedies."

"No you cannot." Cullen agreed. "But it can buy us time, to find a better solution."

He squeezed her close to her, pulling her to him and kissing her on the forehead.

"Your Commander has a clear point." Dorian nodded, folding his arms. "It can buy us the time needed to research into this properly. Perhaps have Alistair check his ties?"

"Tabris may also know something." Solas agreed. 

Pandora nodded, the sounds of the others talking among themselves becoming a distant hum. She stared down at her right hand and closed her eyes. She cursed the Maker for giving her the anchor and now this?

"I am here for you, if you need me." Cullen murmured into her hair. His the only voice that was clear, his breath hot on her head. 

She felt herself fall into his embrace, wishing life was more simple.


	36. Chapter 36

Sera giggled through a full mouth of cookies. Pandora laughed gleefully next to her, the pair perched on the roof outside the tavern. 

"Her face! "To the void with the two of ya!"" Sera mimicked an Anitvan female voice, as Pandora laughed harder, wiping a tear from her eye.

"The water... Oh dear. I shouldn't be laughing but..." Pandora snorted as fresh peels of laughter fell over the pair as they looked at each other, the devilish twinkle in their eyes setting each other off.

"It does people good you know. Forget that you are this scary Quizzy innit. Makes em remember that you are normal, or almost normal."

"With everything happening, with all we have to fight and try and fix, I think more laughter is needed."

"See. Thats why I like you noble pants." Sera nudged her. "Also cos you make nice cookies. Quizzy Cookies."

"Much better than yours... No offence Sera."

The elf waved her hand.

"What was it like in Denerim?" 

"Wait, you getting all serious now?"

"Yup."

Sera heaved a sigh, and stuffed her mouth with another cookie. "Hard for us little folk. Harder if you aint human. Grew up on the streets, finding ways to survive and get by. Which was shit during the Blight."

"Did you know Tabris?"

Sera shrugged. "Nah not really. I was too little, a lot of the older ones looked the same to me too high up for me to look innit. Had to keep my eyes down. I remember the wedding though."

Pan looked to the blonde elf, who stared off into to mountainous distance, eyes glowing with something she could not quite put her finger on.

"Afterwards she swore at the guards: 'He took her away.' 'They killed him when he tried to help.' 'Stuck him like the pig he was.' Never seen anyone look so shaken up like. When she left, rumours said she liked the guy, who she was gonna marry."

Sera sighed. "It was never my business. Never worth any money so I didn't listen too hard."

"But you still listened."

"She escaped the alienage. That deserves to be listened to."

***

"Bash him! No not like that, you trying to make love to him or something? Really bash him with it, he is a grown man! He will survive!"

Tabris folded her arms, bellowing orders at those training in the Skyhold training grounds. Her dark hair curled, framing her dark freckled skin, green eyes glinting intelligently. The clawed scar down her face added to her ferocity. 

"Isn't she something?" Alistair sighed, standing next to the Commander and his second watching the elf take control of some of the training.

"Her technique of swear at them a lot seems to pay off in fairness." Eduard nodded slightly.

"Oi you. On the floor. This isn't nap time... I don't give a toss if you hurt your arm- in a real fight you can not time out with an enemy. Deal with it."

"I do feel that we perhaps should have let her take the more experienced of our soldiers and not the normal Skyhold guards." Eduard added, as a yelp filled the air as a shield bashed into the back of one of the guards training.

"No this will do some of them good." Cullen smiled at the activity before them. "One day they might have to protect us and fight like our normal soldiers."

"Do all elves from Denerim swear so much?"

"What do you mean?" Alistair looked to Eduard, who shrugged.

"Well Sera seems to curse every sentence. Isolde seems to be the same."

"I think if you had been through some of the things they have been through and seen, you might also not really give a damn about minding language." Alistair pointed out with a sad smile, as he watched Tabris bark instructions.

"They knew each other then?" Cullen inquired, turning to Alistair.

"Sera would only have been young, but I believe their paths did cross. Isolde mentioned telling a group of young elves a story about an elven Queen before she was recruited. Thedas is a small world. I mean look at us."

Alistair brandished at the pair. Three ex Templars stood in one of the yards in Skyhold.

"We knew each other during training, then we met when we went to Kinloch." Alistair tapped his nose, as though he had come up with a revelation.

"I feel left out." Eduard pouted. "I trained elsewhere."

"Still a Templar." Alistair folded his arms, and flashed a charming smile.

"Alistair was interesting in training." Cullen chuckled. 

"Interesting?" Eduard raised an eyebrow. "How interesting?"

"He once ran out into the dining hall naked, when it was full of Templar and recruits."

"..." Alistair blushed and buried his face in a hand, as Cullen laughed at the memory.

"Why were you naked?"

Alistair muttered something about a dare by one of the other recruits.

Eduard shrugged. "That is pretty tame. Training was rife for a little bit of fun."

"As Cullen would know." Alistair raised his head a devilish grin on his face. "I recall a drunken time, when you accidentally drank a stash of Wildwine thinking it was something else. You professed your love to a statue of Andraste before passing out outside one of the sisters doors. My she had a fit."

"You did what?" Eduard turned to an embarrassed looking Cullen, shuffling on the spot and rubbing his neck with his hand, in shock.

"Alistair. Could use your help!" Tabris bellowed.

Alistair looked happy to leave the pair, waving his hand at them as he jogged down to be by her side. He pulled her into a loving side embrace, while he waved his hand at a pair of patrol guards with particularly slopping movements.

"Well... I never took you to rebel." Eduard tilted his chin up slightly, in mock disdain.

"One time."

"I just wish I saw it!" Eduard admitted as the swords and shields clashed below.

The pair turned, frowning as they sensed something in the air. An odd humming filled Skyhold. Their hands went to their swords at the same time, the reactions of Templar. Alistair and Tabris turned around also, readying themselves, sensing something a miss. A strange energy seemed to make its way through the air to them, pinks and purples curling in the air like threads.

"Magic?" Eduard growled, flapping his hand to dispel the threads.

Then she appeared. She walked slowly, her eyes fixed ahead not blinking or really seeing, surrounded with the sickening smell and feeling of powerful magic.

"Pan?"

Cullen gasped as he saw the threads streaking from her, the blankness of her eyes. Mind control. He had seen it before, experience it before. She ignored all around her as she moved towards the horses. With one movement she was on the horse, ordering it into a gallop from the stall. And like that, in a flurry of purples, pinks and the thunder of hooves, she was gone.

*

Pandora was still chuckling, nibbling on a cookie as she moved up the stairs to her cavernous room. In her other hand was a pile of reports, which had stacked up since she had left to run a few smaller errands earlier in the week. She began to read the first one on the top of her pile, her brow furrowing as her eyes scanned it, sitting at the chair by the desk. Pan threw the pile on the hard wood and grabbed her quill to quickly scratch her signature at the bottom of the report to confirm the movement of some troops in the Hinterlands. She sighed, realising that despite securing it as best as possible the work never seemed to stop coming in. The more influence they gained, the area they had to worry about. 

A glint in the sunlight caught her eye, almost blinding her. She picked up the mirror, wondering why she had left it on the desk, trying to cast her mind back- had she ever given it to Solas? Without thinking it through she looked in the mirror. A beautiful woman stared back, light brown skin, purple eyes and soft shining hair, a few scars here and there, some new and some not so new. 

Incaensor.

His voice whispered to her. The mirror fell with a crash to the floor, as the breathe stopped flowing from her mouth. Her eyes dimmed from purple to a different colour. Pandora felt herself move, watched Skyhold pass her by and then the mountains surrounding Skyhold as she was on horseback, unable to shout out for help, unable to move.


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to all who have subscribed, bookmarked, liked, kept reading and commented. I am so happy that so many seem to love the character I imagined in my head one day while running around playing with storm magic in the game. Sorry updates have not been regular. I hope you have enjoyed the latest chapters and can see her growing as a character!

The wind creaked through the tower structure, whistling through gutted corridors and crumbling pillars. Despite the destruction which had occurred, nature had slowly began to reclaim the tower, weaving its way through burnt rubble and blanketing the skeletons in a calming green. Ivy spiralled up half crumbled pillars, weeds sprung between cracks in the once polished marble floor.

Pandora lowered the hood of her white cape and stared around her. She blinked her purple orb like eyes, as her hand skimmed a broken stained glass window. It had once been beautiful, winking in blues, oranges and pinks, depicting a scene she could no longer quite remember. How had she got there?

She turned and looked around blankly at the ruin, her brow creasing slightly. She could not have just materialised to Ostwick tower. That kind of magic surely was impossible? Or was it? Something in the back of her mind shifted, like a great cloud of darkness swirling around and around, warning her or at least trying to push through the fog and make her see clear reason. She rubbed her forehead with her fingers, annoyed and grimacing from a small pounding in her head. Why did it hurt so much and why was her mind so murky? It was usually so clear, racing quickly to process everything that had happened. But what had happened? Where had she come from? She knew somehow that she had not been in Ostwick for a very long time.

“Ow.” She gasped as her hand sliced through the stained glass. She looked down. There was no blood.

“Shouldn’t I be bleeding?” She spoke out loud, the silence of the tower echoing with her every word. Her eyes widened suddenly as she looked around once more. 

Eerily silent, eerily everything looked radiant, even the creaking wind the only sound accompanying her did not seem right. She moved over to a spiral of ivy, coating a skeleton in a warm bed and knelt down, still clutching her should be bleeding hand. An ivy leaf was suspended mid air, not moving.

“…Am I dead?”

She spun around, the wall that had been behind her now gone, just a hole looking out to something beyond. Ostwick lay just ahead, she could make out the empty streets of what should be a busy city. The Trevelyan mansion just beyond, too close and empty. Then a wooden camp in the mountains, trebuchets dormant and just beyond a towering structure in the mountains made of stone.

She squinted. “I know that place…”

The name was on the tip of her tongue. She knew that place. She fell to the floor in a rage of annoyance at herself and the mist swirling in her mind. She felt dumb and helpless, knowing that it wasn’t quite right but unsure why.

“You live there.”

Pan jolted and looked around. No one was there. But someone had spoke.

“Who was that?”

Her question was met by a ringing silence. The wind interrupted her racing heart. It whistled through the building, almost making it tilt slightly from the force. Yet the wind did not move any part of her hair or clothing. It did not feel right. She stood slowly and brought her hand to rub her chest, hitting something cold. She frowned and pulled a coin hanging on the end of a necklace into her vision. 

“Why?”

Why would she have a coin around her neck? Was it just in case she ran out of money and had spare? She growled in annoyance and dropped the necklace back around her neck, brushing her white robe and garments from the dust of the burnt shell of a tower. All she knew is she had to leave somehow or at least remember why she was there in the first place. Was it even real?

*

“You all just let her go?” Leliana pounded her fists on the table of the war room, some of the pieces adorning the map jumped in the air in shock. “You are ex-Templar! Did you not sense it? Or does incompetency run rampant in your order?”

“There is little to do against blood magic Leliana without the Litany!” Eduard roared back, baring his teeth at her from across the table. “Perhaps our spymaster should have secured our people more, considering it must have been an inside job! You don't even know where she is!”

“That- don’t push this back on me and mine!” Leliana snarled.

“People will demand answers. We need to give them something” Josie glanced between all present, clearing affected by the screaming and the events of the last few hours.

“Our Inquisitor has gone, without a trace, with clear signs of a dangerous type of magic at work. This looks bad for us.” Cassandra pointed out.

“We could loose a lot of hard won support and allies.”

“The Inquisition might-“

“Damn the Inquisition!” Cullen hit the bookshelf, making everyone jump. “Damn how this looks! Do you not care more for her own safety?! That she could be anywhere and that anything could be-“

Cullen stopped mid sentence and shook his head not wanting to think about it. He turned away from them, running a hand through his hair.

The shocked pause rippled through the room. Cassandra looked slightly taken aback, while the others a little ashamed.

“Commander, of course we care for Pan. This was just entirely unexpected and horrifying to think about, especially considering what she has told us about these people who have taken her… if it is them.” Cassandra did not move from her position. “It is insulting to think that you think we do not care.”

“The way you were talking… It was as though reputation mattered more than morals and our value of each other. If that is the case, what have we become?” Cullen all but choked. He turned from them shaking his head in disbelief. If that was the case, they were not much better than the Templar life he and so many others left behind. It stung in his chest, the feeling of utter helplessness, along with the thought of what might be happening to Pan. He grimaced, leaning with one arm against the bookshelf.

“You all need to stop arguing and act on what is most important.” Tabris sat with her arms crossed on a wooden chair, glaring at them all. The elf warden had sat there the whole time, watching the words fire between advisors and she wondered how they had survived this long. 

“My sister.”

Leliana nodded at Eduard. “The safety of Pan is the most important, saving her from whatever has happened.”

“You all only give a shit because she has a glowing thing on her hand!” Eduard shook his head. 

“Wrong.” Cassandra swiped her hand through the air, to discard his comment. “Every single person in this place, has a personal connection to her. She helped Varric destroy red lyrium, secured a cure for Vivienne, Solas and his spirits, and not to mention Sera and her… odd missions.”

“She is our lynch pin Eduard.” Josie urged, hugging her board to her chest which she usually squibbed in ferociously to her chest.

“I will gouge the eyes out of whoever is responsible.” Leliana crushed her fist and everyone looked at the usually quietly spoken spymaster in shock at the venom in her words. It reminded them all that she had once been a trained bard- assassin.

“Get in line, Red.” Eduard surpassed a slight smile.

“Right, now the mood has lightened we need a plan.” Tabris stood from her chair and peered over the map. "The Inquisitor is our main concern, and getting her back from wherever she is."

“This was found smashed on the floor of her quarters.” Cullen produced a mirror and placed it on the desk, then returning his hand to a white knuckle on the hilt of his sword.

Leliana glanced at him, noting his unruly hair, not as groomed as usual and slightly red rimmed eyes. Cullen had kept his suffering over the past few hours quiet, but it had hit him hard. She was gone, without a trace.

“I know that mirror.” Leliana frowned. “It was recovered by Zevran in the Antivan Caves the cult used to inhabit.”

“They are linked then.” Tabris nodded, prodding the mirror with her finger, wrinkling her nose in displeasure.

“That is the key.” The soft voice of the apostate elf filled the room. Everyone turned to Solas inspecting the mirror, hands behind his back. With him were the others: Bull with his brow knitted, Vivienne looking concerned, Dorian casting glances to Eduard every now and then, Varric and Hawke looking around the grand room and Sera, hanging back slightly.

“Sorry to interrupt the meeting of the important people. But we feel as though our magical insight might be helpful considering… you have very little.” Dorian did not crack a smile, his face was all serious.

“Those trained in magic felt a huge disturbance, or energy.” Vivienne explained. “That, my dears, is something we rarely experience, something that is linked to the energies of blood magic.”

“Yes, Templar felt it too.” Eduard added.

“Albeit in a slightly different way. You are trained and almost bred to kill magic and repel. We the opposite. The paradox.” Solas frowned at the mirror.

“Is it possible do you think?” Dorian glanced at the other two mages.

“Time magic was possible, so at the moment of course it could be darling.” Vivienne tapped an elegant nail against her elbow brow knitted in deep thought.

Solas touched the mirror and then jumped back.

“Incaensor.” He muttered and looked around. “The mirror speaks. Or at least it did.”

Dorian frowned. “That is Tevene.”

“What does it mean?” Cassandra urged. 

“Nothing good I am afraid.” He glanced around. “It means: magic using slave.”

*

Cullen stood in his lonely tower, trapped in his own thoughts, the flickers of the candles his only company. He stared out of the window, the words running through his head of the meeting and then his mind wandered. He still thought any minute she would bang open the door, giggling, Sera behind her with the rest of them and point at him telling him it was a joke. A cruel joke. But it was better than the reality. His mind wandered to what she might be going through, the pain and blood. Rage boiled inside of him and he turned around in an explosion of movement and hurled the heavy desk across the room. Papers swirled around him the air, as glass shattered and candles were extinguished. He then sank to his knees, sobbing, the feeling of helplessness replacing the anger. They had a plan. But not to be done just yet. He did not want to wait, not while she was in danger. She had been gone since late afternoon and it was now sun down. 

A glint caught his eye. Lyrium. He forgot he still had it in his desk. He had not felt the pains of withdrawal for so long. But it called to him once more in his grief. If he was still taking it, could he have stopped her, or saved her? Sensed the magic mirror of blood magic in her room and smashed it before it was too late? Before he knew it, he was by the box and vial, it was in his hand. Throbbing in his mind. Eating away at him. He couldn’t do it anymore.

“You can.”

Her voice whispered to him. A mere memory now, of the time she saw him at his weakest, heard his ramblings of withdrawal and placed a steady hand, peering at him with eyes of concern and hope.

“You know, when she comes back and sees you back on Lyrium, she will shave all my hair off. And I don’t want that, I would look ghastly.” 

Cullen looked up from the Lyrium to see Dorian leaning against the wall. There was a point in his past, that Cullen would have attacked a mage so close him in his own private area. A time where he would have broken into a cool sweat at the thought of a mage in his own private quarters. How that had changed.

Cullen smashed the vial on the floor. “I am leaving now Dorian. I cannot wait.”

“Ah. Good.” Dorian grinned. “I shall get the others.”

“Pardon?”

“You are not the only one who wants to get there as soon as we can.” Dorian held out his hand to Cullen. The corner of his lip curled as he took the Tevinter Mages hand and got to his feet.

“Spread the word. We ride tonight.”


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=esvtQ5FBQjs
> 
> This links to a song that I think matches Pan quite well... also I just love this song. And I want to share it.

Had she ever owned a white cape? Pan suddenly became engrossed by the pearly white fabric encasing her body. She lifted it and it caught the bright light streaming in from the gutted floors of the Mages Tower of Ostwick. It almost blinded her. Her eyes widened then as something slowly dawned on her and it was as though a million shards of glass shattered in her mind unleashing a torrent of clear thought as the fog seemed to thin. Yet something still remained in the back of her mind, urging her to think harder and break more of the odd barrier preventing her from recalling everything truly.

“This place is not real?” She spoke to the tower, her voice echoing, the silence chilling her to the bone.

“Well done.” She did not expect the tower to speak back, but it did. A calming voice, ethereal. “You should be able to make your escape much quicker now.”

“Escape from where exactly?” Pan frowned, glancing around the too white tower. Her eyes lay on the skeleton in the blanket of green. “If this place is not real, where are we?”

She looked around once more, at the leaves in the tower, the sun high in the sky. A book was suspended in mid air further along the marble floor. That type of magic was near impossible she was sure. 

“A dream… the fade?”

Silence answered her. She stared around in annoyance, deciding to turn to the skeleton.

“But this cannot be the fade. I have been there in my Harrowing and… and another time that I can’t remember right now. The Fade was different then I am sure! Where are the demons?”

“You are talking to one.”

"I am talking to a skeleton."

"I am not the skeleton!"

Pan spun around as the voice came from behind her. Before her stood a person, encased in veins of purple light. A halo of light violet surrounded their frame, a beautiful body of pure violet.

“You don’t look like a demon.”

“Not here.” They admitted, nodding their head. “But sadly outside of the fade I have manifest into something else, as have you.”

“Are you a spirit?”

The Spirit nodded and then tilted their head slowly to one side, folding their arms. “What has happened to your memory Pandora Trevelyan?”

Pan frowned and massaged her eyebrow, as though in an attempt to bring back some of the memories which had left her. She knew she was missing something as their were voids swirling in her mind. Everything beyond the town of Ostwick was a blur of foggy images.

The Spirit sighed, Pans actions confirming their thoughts.

“This is your fade. Your dreams. But someone else has you in their power and you need to break free. Look.” The Spirit pointed south from Ostwick. Pan followed their finger of glowing purple.

The sea separating the Free Marches from Ferelden sparkled invitingly in the summer heat. She had glanced their earlier to see a wooden camp and a fortress in the mountains, but now something had changed. Oddly she could make out scenes of what was happening in Ferelden. A blonde Queen sat on her throne in Denerim, listening intently to a common man knelt before her. A group of soldiers huddled in their camp along the Storm Coast, laughing despite the rain battering them over head. The Arl of Redcliffe walked amongst his people, occasionally stopping to point at something clearly damaged by magic, a soldier nodding to rely the order across. The mountains, where a camp lay in ruins. Something moved in Pandora’s mind as she stared at the camp, so close yet out of reach.

“Haven. That is where the Temple of Sacred Ashes is meant to be…” The fog lifted, the glass shattering once more as the memory came back.

She was sat among them. Templar lined the Temple to the left and mages to the right. She pulled her dark robes around her, feeling the eyes of a hundred angry Templar and a hundred equally angry mages snap onto her and the others. Grand Enchanter Ines lead the way and they sat among their mages. Yet unwelcomed. Ostwick had never sided with the rebel mages, even when the Circle was annulled. She excused herself, although she was no longer sure why she did it. The corridor she found herself in was quiet, a welcome retreat from the arguments she could still here from a distance away. Was that why she left?

“Prepare the sacrifice.” A woman crying for help, as a clipped male voice drifted from a side room.

“What’s going on here?”

The Divine was kept in place by some magic, a corrupted half man demon face sagging and red crystals sprouting from his body glared at her. Then she was bathed in green, left hand encased in a green light and pain. There were other images, but they were unfocussed and not clear enough to make out.

“I destroyed the Temple?” It was not meant as a question. 

“You didn’t mean to.” The Spirit pointed out.

“I was held prisoner by an angry dark haired woman and a calmer red haired woman. They trusted me though and took me to seal the rifts that had emerged from the magic.”

The glacier in her mind shifted, as more panes of glasses fractured and shattered. Her mind throbbed as clarity came to her, her focus on the events of her past in the distance became clearer. She had danced through the air, dispelling demons with her storm magic as two men fought to exhaustion. One was her brother, older. The other a man with blonde hair, a curious scar on his lip. She fumbled with the coin around her neck, as the final shard of glass broke.

“Cullen.” The Spirit smiled slightly as Pan muttered his name.

Then with a flash everything that had happened in Haven, the tavern evenings, the walks along the walls, the awkward conversations with the Commander and everyone else hurried through until the enemy arrived. What might have been an archdemon cackling through the sky. Then walking through the mountains wounded, the Commander carrying her back to camp wrapped in his furs concern on his pale face. Then Skyhold.

“I am the Inquisitor. I need to leave. I should be in Skyhold.”

Pan frowned and spun on heel with a flurry of her cloak, heading towards a spiral staircase, running the perimeter of the gutted tower. She moved so fast she accidentally kicked piles of burnt books from the steps. They should have fallen, pages flapping through the air but instead they were suspended miles above the ground. The sun beat down on her, the sound of her shoes hitting the stone echoing around. She reached the double doors, off their hinges, laying on the ground and passed through the threshold into the outside. Or at least she tried. Until something threw her back. Pan moaned on the floor.

“You can’t leave.” The Spirit peered over her body.

Pan slowly sat up. “Why not?”

“You are physically still in this tower.”

“No I am in the fade... So I should be able to create a tear, and escape like at Adamant!" She outstretched her left hand. Nothing happened.

"We are. But this is your mind. Your actual body is in the tower. Which means your mark does not work."

Pan frowned, standing on her feet and staring at the glowing Spirit. "Why am I not in Skyhold? The tower is destroyed, nothing is left, no one is left..."

“He called you Pan. I don’t quite think we were ever truly free from his control.”

Pan felt the colour drain from her face, and her stomach rolled in nausea. She feel to the floor. She had picked up the mirror found on the Antivan border. She had been so sure she had given it Solas to investigate, had she been so stupid to forget- which was unlike her. Did that small mistake cost her freedom and potentially put the whole of the Inquisition in grave danger? His voice had drifted from the mirror and spoken to her, a switch seemed to flick in her, as she lost control of her own actions. Slowly she lost control of her mind as well, she remembered climbing the horse and galloping from Skyhold and from there nothing. She glanced up to the Spirit, which had knelt next to her, purple glowing hand hesitating.

“How do you know so much?”

“I am Hope.”

"You..."

"I have always been with you. Ever since your were a small child. There is some extraordinary about you, even before the mark was bestowed upon your left hand. You always had the ability to walk in the fade, before the storm crashed around you. You needed me in your youth, something to keep you going. Then the day you fell from the tower..."

"You helped me during my Harrowing. You saved me falling from the tower. We are somehow bound, correct?"

The Spirit nodded. "Yes. I didn't want you to die. A gift like yours... I felt as though Thedas needed something like that to inspire. It started as you needing me, but as time moved on I needed you. In some of your darkest hours in those caves, it wasn't me that kept you going. It was you."

The Spirit smiled, a huge glowing smile. "You are hope."

"Well... I think it is you."

"Not right now. I am now Despair, a demon twisted."

"How?"

"He figured out how to unleash the demon he sensed in you all those years ago."

"...By making me go to sleep. Have nightmares which weakens you." Her mind raced to piece the puzzle together. "But if Rex has turned you into Despair, how are you here with me now?"

"I live partially in your mind, a part of me with you. I am weak, but I am still here."

Pandora nodded, and stared around the silent white tower.

"So I need to wake up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I am breaking so many of the magic rules of Dragon Age, but oh well! I have tried to make it as lore friendly as possible with the thought that if DAI had time magic then surely the other forms or some kind of manipulation would be possible? Let me know if you any thoughts negative or positive about it! Also apologies if this is getting confusing. Let me know, and I will edit it!!


	39. Chapter 39

"So, this is the old Circle at Ostwick?"

Cullen raised his head, squinting through the horizontal rain at the dark tower in the distance. The night was dark, made worse by the heavy cloud and rain overhead, drenching the marsh land surrounding Ostwick and the tower. Not even the stars or moon in the sky cast light onto the vista. Far away in the distance the glow of Ostwick could be seen, unaware of the evil living within the burnt out tower, safe within the double walls surrounding the city. 

"The weather is oddly poetic for this moment." Tabris muttered, pulling her rangers hood closer to her face. She reached out a long gloved hand as a raven landed. She fed it a crumb of biscuit, before it flapped away once more, silently circling the tower. "I managed to scout to the north. Nothing in that direction. Everyone seems to be within that prison, hopefully to escape the rain. The bird has confirmed that not a soul is outside of that tower..."

"You sense a trap?" Cullen looked to her. Tabris peered through the rain, her wood coloured eyes taking in the building constantly evaluating. 

She shrugged. "It is always worthwhile to prepare oneself for the worst outcome."

"Dorian and Vivienne better get here with the Litany soon." Solas shook his head. "Or else we might have an interesting evening on our hands."

"He will." Eduard frowned at the elf, defensively. 

"I still think we should have brought more people." Tabris sighed.

"No." Cullen shook his head, eyes fixed back on the tower. "We still need defenders back at Skyhold, and blood magic is dangerous. Hopefully we will have an element of surprise, and our small number should help."

"Aren't you used to working in a small group Tabris?" Eduard turned to the elf. "After all it was only you, Alistair, Leliana and Morrigan on most of your adventures."

"There were others too, Trevelyan. Never forget those who work behind the scenes." She cautioned, looking down her nose slightly at the noble.

"So the perimeter is secured?" Cullen cut in, glancing away from the tower, rain dripping from his forehead into his eyes. He wiped his forehead with his hand.

"Yes." Tabris nodded, before glancing to the sky and holding out her arm once more. A different Raven landed, a sodden piece of paper on its leg. Tabris unrolled it. "Litany obtained."

"Then we move in." Solas murmured. Cullen swallowed, nodding. 

"Indeed, we move in. Remember, we secure the lower levels, then wait for the others to arrive with the Litany. Then we move through together. Do not engage with Blood mages, let Eduard dispel the magic for now."

They moved silently through the marshland. Cullen heaved his feet, hiding his heavy breathing as best he could as his metal boots sank into the soggy wet grass. His mind and eyes were focused still ahead, on the dark tower. It was different to what he was expecting and used to seeing a Circle look like. Ferelden had been mammoth in size, stretching from the lake into the heavens almost. It was a beautiful building, decorated with ornate windows, and blue tiles in the roof. The only clue to its true purpose was the broken bridge and occasional bar on the windows. Then in contrast was Kirkwall. The Gallows. A huge fortress, oppressive looking making no attempt to mask the prison like conditions inside. Ostwick was tower like in appearance, and it too like Kinloch seemed to graze the heavens. But even in the darkness, Cullen could make out it was more open. And that was not due to the fact that parts of the building was now exposed to the elements from the fire. Here and there on different levels, seemed to be balconies with ruined pillars crumbling. There was a main tower spiralling into the sky in the middle and about five separate smaller towers joint by partially wrecked or wrecked ornate bridges. His mind wandered, thinking what it was liken within those walls before it fell. He thought of a young Pandora, running through the corridors, books in her hands laughing with the other mages while the Templar smiled, looking on. The image played in his mind, constructed from the conversations they had had about her time in the tower. How different Ostwick had been. If he had been stationed there, would he have remained in the order? He then thought to the day the Red Templar arrived at Haven. Some of them had been from Ostwick.

The group reached the fallen doors to the tower, puddles from the rain forming in the grooves of the intricate patterns adorned on the heavy doors. 

"So a lake surrounds Kinloch, while a marsh surrounds Ostwick." Tabris mused, glaring down at her now mud ridden armour. "I always wondered- keep the 'normal' people out or them in?"

"You do not agree with circles?"

"Not in the slightest." Tabris wrinkled her nose, her boot kicking the door slightly. "I have known many mages as allies and friends who have supported me through my hardest trials, offering me another chance. Anyone is dangerous, with a sword or staff. There is little difference."

"What about blood magic?" 

Tabris shrugged. "I have seen good mages use it, for good deeds."

Cullen held up a hand to silence the quiet chatter behind him. He drew his sword and shield moving forwards with caution. Small steps, making little sound. Solas raised his staff, a ball of energised magic fell into the braziers which remained on the walls. A dim glow to light up the dark interior, but also guide Dorian and Vivienne in. Cullen strained his eyes, adjusting to the slight light. There was no sign of life. Eduard moved over to a pile of skeletons, and knelt down to inspect them.

"The bodies of Templar and Mages... just piled together. This happened soon after death."

"Part of the terror of annulment." Solas lent on his staff, staring with sorrow around the entrance hall. "This place will be full of ghosts."

The entrance hall was large. Pillars led out into a small inner courtyard, partially flooded with rain, and the pillars guarded the outside of the circular courtyard. Broken glass domed above it, revealing the levels above. 

"Less a prison and more a grand palace." Tabris touched a pillar, marvelling at the golden latticed patterns delicately placed on.

"It is too quiet." Cullen grumbled, frowning at the gutted yet beautiful exterior. 

"They might be higher up?" Eduard offered.

"Or not here at all." Solas glanced to Cullen.

"What do you-?" Cullen began to ask.

"Greetings, Agents of the famed Inquisition!" A deep male voiced fill the atrium entrance area. 

Tabris crouched low, her bow suddenly in her hand eyes scanning fruitlessly. Eduard and Cullen tensed, while Solas remained leaning on his staff head tilted in wonder.

"Welcome to the old circle of Ostwick. I must admit, I was not expecting company for at least another couple of days. It seems you value something I lent to you for a short time very dearly indeed."

"Where are you, you shitty bastard!?!" Eduard bellowed, rearing his head in anger. Cullen grabbed him by the chest, using his strength to stop him pouncing forward on nothing.

"Extremely creative with your language." The deep voice sounded half amused. "We are at the top, in the large chamber where mages become 'harrowed'. Where each one of us is born and made into the mage we are. I will light the way for you. Come find me."

A door creaked open, as a magical fire lit the corridor beyond across the Atrium. 

"I will find you and gut you!" Eduard called back.

The voice only laughed before fading.

"What was that for?" Eduard shoved Cullen's arm from him, his brow knitting heavily. 

"He was not in here." Cullen shook his head. "And I didn't want you moving in case he wanted you in the centre of that dome to get you."

"Whatever." Eduard turned from Cullen and stalked away.

"Rude." Tabris stood next to Cullen glaring at Eduard.

"No. His sister is up there with that man."

Tabris was silent for a moment. "I read some of the reports about it back in Skyhold before we left. This guy, could he really also be linked to Corypheus?"

"Pan seemed to think so, somehow." Cullen ran a hand through his hair in distress. "I just don't like the idea of her up there."

The pair turned and looked upwards, beyond the broken glass to the many levels of the tower.

"Nor do I like the idea that he wants us to go up. That he is lighting the way. What is his motive?"

Tabris inhaled deeply. "We need to press on. But this is giving some unhappy flashbacks to Kinloch..."

She bit her lip instantly. She had first met Cullen in the tower, near the Harrowing chamber. He was jabbering nonsense, tears falling from his eyes, seeing visions brought on by Blood Mages and demons. 

"Sorry. I forgot for a moment..."

Cullen shook his head. "Those demons have left me now. My only concern is what demons Pandora is enduring above us. We need to push on."

He signalled behind for the mage and Eduard to follow. Tabris nodded and advanced ahead, to scout and check for any traps. She avoided the courtyard in the middle, too exposed. Solas glanced to Eduard and followed her. Cullen watched, unsure how to react as Eduard pulled a phial of glowing blue from his pack braking the glass neck of the phial and knocking back the glowing blue liquid. Lyrium. Eduard had thinned down his usage since arriving at Skyhold, but Cullen had noted he was taking more than usual.

"Eduard are-"

"Don't judge me." Eduard threw the glass to one side. It smashed against the wall, the glass tumbling amongst the piles of bones and leafs. "I am not strong like you, Cullen. I need it now more than ever."

"I am not judging. I just want to make sure you are ok. She needs you to be ok."

Eduard turned to him and sniffed, his eyes darting everywhere. "I know. I am sorry... for snapping at you."

"You are very strong Eduard." Cullen patted his shoulder. "One of the best I know. I would not have recruited you otherwise. I am nothing without my Second in Command."

"But I am taking Lyrium when you-"

"Don't think about what I am doing. Think about you." Cullen frowned. "What do you want right now?"

"To save my sister."

"So that is what you will do. Everything else, can wait for later. Is that clear, Trevelyan?"

"Yes sir." Eduard saluted.


	40. Chapter 40

Pandora lent against the white pillar of the huge domed entrance hall of the tower. The sun beat down relentlessly and showed no sign of stopping.

"Are you sure this is the fade?"

"You are asleep." The Spirit replied, as they absentmindedly toyed with a book in midair. 

"Why is it so sunny and hot?"

"This is not the physical fade you are used to, this is the one of the mind and dreams, so thus different. And It is you. You are different."

Pandora sighed and rubbed her eyebrow. It was starting to annoy her that everything she thought she knew about magic had unravelled around her since leaving the tower. Time magic should be impossible, yet it was born into reality by Alexius and the Venatori. Mind control extending across continents should have been impossible, yet the voice of Rex commanded her back. In fact mind control dormant should have also been impossible. Here she was. In the fade supposedly, but unlike anything she had thought possible.

"How am I different exactly? I am just a normal mage."

"With a glowing green hand."

"I haven't always had that glowing green hand." Pan pointed out.

The Spirit shrugged as they prodded the book with a long purple finger almost tentatively. The Spirit wanted to see what would happen. The book began to spin around and around in the air. Pandora began to think that this experience was as perplexing to the Spirit used to walking in the fade as it was to her. "It is the way magic acts around you. I am not sure really, but I have only ever sensed it around certain elves."

Pandora was about to reply when a brazier suddenly sparked a dim blue colour. She pushed herself from the pillar and stepped forwards, inspecting the brazier with curiosity.

"Interesting." The Spirit murmured, joining Pan by her side.

"The bodies of Templar and Mages... just piled together. This happened soon after death."

"Part of the terror of annulment. This place will be full of ghosts."

"Less a prison and more a grand palace." 

Voices in conversation echoed around the domed entrance, as the sun continued to light up the white of the marble. Pan spun around trying to locate their source- recognising the voice of her brother, Solas and Tabris.

"What is happening?" She turned to look at the Spirit of Hope.

"I have no idea." The Spirit admitted. "My guess is that somehow, there is a connection with the world."

"But I saw visions earlier."

"Yes. Of your past."

"Yet we saw the Queen in Denerim. I have never been there."

"The fade works in mysterious ways with you Pan." The Spirit smiled thinly. 

"It is too quiet." 

A faint man came into view. Pandora moved close to him, standing almost with her nose to his chest peering up at him. Cullen looked passed her and stared up at the domed entrance way. 

"They might be higher up?" Her brothers voice rang out. Cullen tilted his head towards where he brother must be.

"Or not here at all." 

Pandora turned to look at the Spirit. "They are in the tower?"

"Must be." The Spirit frowned. 

"No they can't be!" Pandora's eyes widened in horror, and she looked back to Cullen. "It is too dangerous turn back!"

She tried to shove Cullen, but her arms fell through him and the vision faded.

"I need to wake up."

"Yes you do."

Pandora turned her head towards the tower. "I think the best way to do that is climb to the Harrowing Chamber."

"Yes." The Spirit scratched their head. "I think that is where we are. Physically in the world."

"You seem so unsure? Why is that?"

"I told you." The Spirit smiled sadly. "I am now mostly Despair. I can only offer some assistance... and I sense you might need the little power I have later."

"Do you think he is connected to Corypheus?"

The Spirit folded their arms, as the pair cautiously began to walk through the domed entrance towards the staircase. 

"Without a doubt. From what we have seen."

Pan nodded in agreement. "I think he let me escape. He wanted me at the Conclave."

"But why?"

"You told me he sensed that you had bound with me?"

"Yes."

"My guess is, the reason why he did all that he did to me and others was to try and turn you into a demon." Pan frowned to herself as she watched her feet climb the steps, one by one. "But nothing worked. He knew something big was going to happen at the Conclave and he wanted a spy so let me go, under the illusion of free will."

"To try and make Despair manifest?" Hope tilted their head thinking. "That would not have worked."

"Not to make Despair manifest, but to just see. Perhaps he meant to call me back, but then I got the mark. He wanted me to get stronger, forge ties and relationships so that when the time came..."

"He could cut them."

Pan nodded slowly. "But also he learned how to turn you into a Demon. Rex never let me sleep, perhaps if he had we would have been a demon a long time ago. His mistake was toying with me and my freedom, because now I will not give up. I have seen and known too much now."

 

*

 

Tabris rolled on the floor, and righted herself, firing two arrows into the eyes of an apostate mage running towards them. As the mage fell, she clipped the bow back and from the hilts at her thighs produced two daggers, slicing her way through the mages. Their blood was hot on her face. She jumped on the back of one and brought her dagger into their neck, as blood bubbled from the wound. The hum of magic lit up the air around them, as a barrier went around the group, Solas standing behind. One of the mages began to charge up a spell aiming at the rogue. Eduard breathed in deeply, as a hum of blue light swirled around the mage. Their magic drained from them. Cullen charged in hitting the mage in the face with the shield, sending them careening backwards. With his other arm he brought his sword into the body of another, blood gargling in their mouth.

"How is everyone?" He asked, panting slightly from the effort.

"All accounted for." Eduard confirmed, resting his arm on a wall burying his head in it wincing slightly.

"Covered in blood of blood mages." Tabris confirmed, sheathing her daggers using her boots to push over a dead mage from their side.

"Perhaps this man wants to toy with us?" Solas murmured, looking around and leaning on his staff. "Our Commander was kind enough to only break the nose, and concuss one of the mages."

He outstretched a finger to the mage crumbled up against the wall, breathing heavily. His eyes darted around, bloodshot and confused.

"Look, egg head." Tabris jabbed a finger at him, snarling. "It would be lovely to leave most our foes maim or not dead. But when they fire at you with fire balls, and snakes of blood, it can result in death!"

Cullen walked over to the mage and knelt down before them.

"Who are you?" His gentle tone shocked him as much as it did the others. Tabris raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"I- I am... son of... Horace. Wilfred... My name is Wilfred." He choked, his eyes darting around. "What- what is happening?"

Eduard pushed himself from the wall, staring at the mage crumpled in a heap. "Mind control?"

"Tell me what you think is has happened Wilfred. Try and remember." Cullen urged, placing his hand on the mages knee. Solas walked over to the mage and busied himself with healing the wounds. 

"I was... in the Green Dales. I used to be in the Ansburg Circle... I was sent to Ostwick to recover any lost items in the annulment with a few others... Why were we in the Green Dales?" He closed his eyes. "We met a man. With red brown hair. We had to join him, we couldn't leave him. He... He did horrible things. We... I killed... a child... an innocent child. He was looking for something that had been stolen from him, he said: they have stolen her now. I lent them her and now they have stolen her."

The apostate buried his head in his hands. Cullen then watched in horror as the blood around them snaked back towards him, his head snapping upwards and an evil smile spreading over his face.

"She is mine Commander." His words came out in a snarl.

With a single movement, Solas outstretched his hand with a sorrowful look on his face. Wilfred son of Horace cackled as slowly he died.

"What happened?" Cullen turned to Solas, accusingly. 

"It seems some of them are under mind control. I tried to nullify the effects, but it seems our host does not wish his puppets to escape his strings."

"He can control them from all the way up in the Harrowing Chamber?" Tabris grimaced.

"He must have some of his own around the tower, acting as conduits almost."

"Is that even possible?" Cullen asked.

Solas smiled and did not answer.

"It is a shame... we could not save his life." Cullen sighed bitterly, looking down at the bloodied body of Wilfred. He could not help but to think of Pan. That she had done similar under his control. 

"Not everyone can be saved." Eduard patted Cullen on the back sadly. 

"So here are the band of the Inquisition?"

They turned to see a woman with red hair, and blood red lips smirking in the doorway blocking their ascent. 

"What an odd rabble. I will pleasure in taking your life in the name of the Archon."

She threw her arms forwards, as the blood began to swirl around her. The bodies of the fallen mages rose from the ground, as more mages streamed from behind her. Cullen cried out in pain as he felt hot liquid drip from his ears, accompanied by an odd popping noise. He brought his gauntlet to his ear and looked, it was blood. His eyes widened and snapped to the woman.

"Engage the blood mage!" He roared, as he felt more blood dripping from his nose.

He dashed forwards, extending his shield arm bashing out, but she had moved with devilish quick speeds. Disorientated he swung around his sword, trying to remain calm and collected. He managed to slice a piece of her red hair from her head. She growled and extended her hand to him.

As blood began to drip from parts of his exposed body, he began to feel weak. He fell to his knees as his own blood slowly began to snake its way towards the beautiful woman of red. Everything was red. He heard the others fighting around him, but his own vision began to blur, like it did under the worst Lyrium withdrawals. He didn't want to die here. Not here. Not knowing if she was safe, not without her. His mind wandered.

To a small cabin, in the woods near the Hinterlands. The grass was green, and bending in the wind, while flowers of different colours dotted amongst the green. Smoke rose from the chimney of the cabin, while someone was sitting in a chair just outside of the door, eyes closed and basking in the sun. Her black hair was pinned back, in a messy bun showing off her features. The calm and peacefulness suited her. Pandora opened her eyes and smiled.

Cullen felt helpless as his blood swam around him, his head pounding, while the woman laughed.


End file.
